


A Thousand Miles

by missingparentheses



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Marital Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2018-12-24 12:43:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 45,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12012987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingparentheses/pseuds/missingparentheses
Summary: From strangers to husbands and back again: sometimes even the greatest of loves can be threatened.





	1. Strangers

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9182317) by [missingparentheses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingparentheses/pseuds/missingparentheses). 



> I'm as nervous as you are. Wake me when it's over.
> 
> A million thanks to my ever-faithful betas, [Rennie-Mae](http://archiveofourown.org/users/loudspeakr/pseuds/loudspeakr) and [The Wolf](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FamousWolf/pseuds/FamousWolf). (That sounds like a band. Or a children's book.)
> 
> This story takes place in the same AU as my previous fic, "[Home](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9182317/chapters/20841475)", which describes how they got together. Reading that story is not strictly necessary for this one to make sense, but you will find that certain references to past events will make more sense if you've read it. (Some references in the chapters ahead may also be a little spoilery for "Home" if you choose to read that later instead of first.)

The pale light flickered off of Link’s dark hair, and it made him look young. It reminded Rhett of nights staying up too late watching a scary movie when they were kids. Link hated scary movies, always had. But when they were young, he’d still try to pretend. He thought it made him seem like a wuss if he let on how scared he was, but Rhett always knew. He’d stretch his long legs across the couch and nudge Link with his toe right before the jump scares, at least when he knew they were coming. It gave his best friend an excuse to look away just in time.

With legs much longer now than they were then, he poked Link in the side of his ribcage. Link didn’t budge. They were not, after all, watching a scary movie. Just something inane to take the edge off. Rhett poked him again.

“What.” Link’s eyes stayed glued to the screen. Rhett didn’t respond, only poked him a third time. Link sighed and agonizingly rolled his gaze toward the man across the couch.

“What? What do you want?”

“Remember when we used to watch scary movies?”

The corner of Link’s mouth twitched at the memory, but he sobered and looked back to the TV. “You’re not trying to get me to watch one with you, are you?”

“No. You hate them.”

“I’m aware.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Why do you think something’s wrong?” Link asked, his voice flat.

Rhett shrugged and looked away, back to the show he hadn’t been paying attention to. He waited a long beat before speaking again. “You tired?” From the corner of his eye he watched for Link’s reaction. He caught a glimpse of the muscle tightening in his jaw, the shadows of it highlighted by the contrasting light of the screen and the darkness of the surrounding living room.

“I was up late last night,” Link finally responded. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, Rhett. I just couldn’t. Maybe I had too much caffeine late in the day. Who knows?”

There was a character on the screen that Rhett didn’t recognize; it was clear he’d missed enough to be lost now. He retracted his foot from Link’s side, gingerly straightening his posture and pressing up from the old couch that tried to hold him back, the cushions low and worn. Once he was standing, he pressed his palms into the small of his back and leaned into them, groaning as the muscles released and the vertebrae crackled.

“I’m going to bed,” he murmured.

“Aren’t you watching this? Should I turn it off?”

“I don’t really care,” Rhett replied. “Do what you want.”

“You mad at me?”

“I’m fine. Goodnight.”

 

Rhett closed the bedroom door behind him a little harder than he intended. He stripped down to his boxers and tossed his clothes in the general direction of the hamper, brushed his teeth in the attached master bath, and climbed into bed. He wasn’t tired, so he scrolled through Facebook and YouTube comments on his phone until he heard Link’s footsteps beyond the bedroom door as he turned off the TV and checked the locks on the front and back doors. Before he made it into the room, Rhett turned off his phone and rolled toward the edge of his side of the bed, feigning sleep. But his husband knew him better than that.

The bed dipped when Link climbed in, pulling at the covers that Rhett had gathered in a bunch beneath his chin. They listened in silence to each other's breathing for long minutes before Link spoke.

“Hey.”

Rhett felt Link's toe begin to trail up and down along his calf, mirroring Rhett's own actions on the couch.

“You wanna fool around?”

Rhett hesitated before answering, weighing whether it was worth the effort. Finally he sighed.

“I thought you were tired.”

“I got my second wind.”

“Did you now.”

“You sure you're not mad?” Link asked. His voice was small, hesitant.

“What would I have to be mad about?”

Link sighed and rolled into the center of the bed, pressing his forehead against the broad expanse of Rhett’s back. His skin was warm and smooth, and the scent of him was familiar. He knew it as well as his own.

“I’m sorry for being short with you before.”

Rhett grunted in reply.

“You gonna talk to me?” Link murmured into Rhett’s skin. Rhett shifted, indicating he was going to roll over and giving Link time to move from the path of his long body. He came to rest on his back, eyes staring toward the ceiling in the darkness.

“Whaddya wanna talk about?”

Link clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Please don’t play dumb with me.”

“I’m not playing dumb, Link. I just don’t know what you want from me.”

“How many times do we have to have this same conversation?”

“Apparently at least once more,” Rhett said, “because I’m still unclear on exactly what your problem is.”

“Oh, it’s _my_ problem? I’m the one holding you at arm’s length?”

Rhett gritted his teeth, searching the darkness for a retort while he simultaneously tried to calm his emotions. He made a conscious effort to quiet his voice, though it did little to soften the tone.

“I’m not saying this is all on you. I know it takes two to tango, and we both…”

When he trailed off, Link pressed him. “We both what?”

Rhett turned his head, skimming the outline of his husband’s features in the sparse moonlight from between the curtains.

“We both kind of suck at this.”

“At what? Marriage?”

Rhett swallowed. “I mean, am I imagining things? Is it all in my head? Are you happy?”

Link lay back, unable to hold Rhett’s gaze even under the shroud of darkness.

“No.”

They fell silent beneath the weight of the admission. It wasn’t the first time they’d discussed it, but each time the confessions became more stark, their boldness growing when the previous bout of sincerity hadn’t solved their problems.

All they seemed to know how to do was talk. They talked for a living, mostly to each other, the same as they’d been doing since childhood. Talking used to be the glue that held them together, their code of loyalty and honesty, their absolute trust in one another. It was what they did. But it wasn’t enough anymore.

Rhett reached out blindly and found his husband's arm. He wrapped his palm around Link's wrist and squeezed, only vaguely sure of what he hoped to communicate with the gesture. But it was something. Link responded, rolling toward him and finding his lips in the dark.

They made love quietly and efficiently. It had been wild once, the pent-up passion of years kept restrained, exploding when they finally collided. They'd gone from strangers to friends, friends to brothers, brothers to lovers. Lovers had become husbands, the stars aligning to give them the culmination of everything they'd always known themselves to be. They were soulmates. There had never been anything else for them but to be together.

But they were together here in the dark, two bodies entwined, yet a thousand miles apart. It had been a slow fade. It took time to dismantle something as sure and sturdy as what they had. They had always known everything there was to know about each other, but somehow, without knowing where or how it began, they'd slipped back to where they had started: strangers.

Rhett watched his husband's face in the dimness. Link's eyes were closed in concentration, his lips parted around the breath his effort induced. Rhett knew his every freckle, every wrinkle, every hair. He knew his patterns and habits, his likes and dislikes, but he couldn't puzzle out what he needed. Not anymore. Not where it counted.

When it was over, they tidied up without a word and rolled back to their respective sides of the bed. Rhett searched for the words to say, anything to make it right, to heal the rift between them. He turned back toward Link and opened his mouth, hoping his instincts and their long history would fill in the blanks. But before he could speak, a faint snore emanated from the space beside him. With a sigh, Rhett rolled back over and went to sleep.

***

The Mythical Beasts were split on the issue. Each crew member had their own set of fans, some clearly more popular than others, though none truly disliked by the majority. They had a good team, and their gradual move toward giving them more and more of their own content seemed overall to be a positive move despite the fans that disliked it.

To some, it was perceived as a threat. More crew appearances meant less Rhett and Link, and Rhett and Link were what had brought the fans in the first place. The primary fear of the naysayers was that the show would slowly change hands to the crew until Rhett and Link had phased out completely, free to run their empire from behind the scenes while younger faces took their places behind the desk.

That wasn't the plan. Not yet, at least. The men loved their job, the many facets and forms it took, and weren't giving up their chairs anytime soon. But it was admittedly a relief when the crew pulled up their own chairs for a Good Mythical More segment. The main show was fun, and the aid of the crew in planning episodes took off the pressure of spontaneity. Because, if they were honest, the spontaneity was where they got stuck these days. It required vulnerability. A structured episode followed by a conversation with crew members left little to chance. It made it easier to keep faking it.

Link's mind wandered for just a moment while Rhett joked with Eddie and Lizzie over some concoction they were bravely tasting for themselves, and the laughter at his expense snapped him back into the present. All eyes were on him, and the remaining crew behind the camera joined in the laughter at Link's bewildered expression.

“What? What'd I miss?”

Rhett shook his head, chuckling. “It's nothing,”

“What?” Link insisted. “Did I say something stupid?”

A fresh wave of laughter exploded from the room, and Link's expression darkened, though his smile stayed fixed. He locked eyes with Rhett.

“Just tell me!”

Rhett ignored him and turned to Eddie. “You like it? Did you actually just take another bite?”

Eddie had begun to reply when Link shouted over him. “You can't just ignore me, Rhett! I'm not a child!”

The room fell silent. It seemed an endless few seconds before Ben quietly announced, “We’re out,” and Stevie added in, “We’ll find somewhere to cut it, it's fine.”

“I wasn't ignoring you.” Rhett held Link's gaze while Lizzie and Eddie stood and slunk away, the crew dispersing and leaving their bosses to their conversation. “I was finishing my conversation with Eddie.”

“What did I say that was so funny?”

“It was nothing.”

“If it was nothing, why was everyone laughing?”

“Link, it was _literally_ nothing. You said nothing. It wasn't something you said.”

“Then what? What is so hilarious about dumb ol’ Link’s silence?”

Rhett rolled his eyes and stood. He avoided Link’s eyes as the room emptied, but he could feel his husband waiting for his answer, and he wasn’t going to let it go until he got one. “I don't understand why you're taking this so personally. You just...you had a funny expression on your face. Lizzie asked you something and you just sat there with your face like that. Okay? Happy? Can we go back to pretending to like each other again?”

Link winced. “Well, that's a shitty thing to say to the man you're supposed to love.”

The set was quiet. They knew their employees were in other rooms nearby, making themselves busy and being careful to give them as much space as possible, but it didn't do much to diminish the feeling of exposure. Rhett crossed his arms and sat back against the desk, perching on the edge with his side to Link. He didn't look at him.

“I do love you,” Rhett nearly whispered.

“But you don't like me.”

“Sometimes.”

Link swallowed. “Then why are we doing this?”

Rhett turned his head and met his eye. “That's it? You wanna throw in the towel?”

Link stood and joined Rhett on his perch against the desk. “I think we need help.”

“What, like marriage counseling?”

“Well, yeah, eventually. But I think I gotta get my head on straight first.”

Rhett looked him over. Link felt his gaze in his periphery, but he kept his focus on a spot on the checkerboard floor.

“What does that mean?” Rhett asked.

“It means I don't know what I want. I don't know who I am, or what I need. And I think until I figure that out, until we both figure that out...we're not going to able to fix this. If the foundation’s cracked, we’ve got nothing to build on.”

Link felt his husband's eyes burn into the side of his face. When he couldn't stand the heat any longer, he turned his head. Rhett's face was closed off, and the look terrified Link. He'd always known what Rhett was thinking purely by reading his face. Now it was like he didn't even know him.

“Okay,” Rhett said. “We’ll start there.”


	2. Castaway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In addition to my betas, thanks to [Sarah](http://archiveofourown.org/users/heatgeneratingtechniques/pseuds/heatgeneratingtechniques) for helping me brainstorm some of the elements in this chapter! (Go read her stuff. It's so good, y'all.)
> 
> In case you missed the note I added belatedly to the first chapter, this story exists in the same AU as my previous fic, ["Home"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9182317/chapters/20841475). This chapter will address a few events from that story, so even though it's not strictly necessary that you've read that one first, you will have a bit more context if you have. This story takes place around twenty years later.

Link didn’t get many opportunities to ride alone in the car, so when he did, he relished the quiet. The fact that he and Rhett had never had children did diminish the noise in their lives significantly, but even still, the two of them were always together. They lived together, they worked together, they ran errands together. Sometimes one of them would get away, just to have a few moments of peace, even if it just meant a quick run to Home Depot or Walgreens. But more often than not, the other man would want to tag along because he needed something too. So the lack of solitude continued.

But on this day, Link was driving alone to his first therapy appointment. He was both nervous and excited, and he felt the need to practice his speech—if that’s what one would call it—in the car on the way. He was worried about feeling comfortable enough to open up to a complete stranger, but he also wanted to make the most of his time, especially with the price of a professional audience being what it was. There was no reason to be shy. His best bet was to dive right in, swallow his nerves, and get to the point.

Once he arrived, Link felt good about his jumping-off place. He was confident that from there he would be able to feel things out as they went along, divulging as much as felt natural for a first visit.

He parked his car beneath a tree that promised some meager shade from the hot California sun. The counseling clinic was located on the third floor of a multi-level office building, the hallways and elevator lined with dated wood paneling. The elevator ride made him dizzy and did nothing to dispel the nervous energy pulsing through his limbs the way a climb up the stairs would have, and he made a mental note to take the stairs next time. That is, if there were a next time. He was surprised at how quickly his confidence was slipping from his grasp.

Upon reaching the counseling offices, Link checked in at the counter and took a seat in the waiting room. He’d never been to a therapist before, though not because he hadn’t recognized the value in it. It had been more a matter of time and money, not to mention his inherent drive to fix things himself, to logic away his problems by buckling down and figuring it out. But his problems with Rhett had been going on for far too long to justify continuing to lie to himself. This wasn’t something catastrophic that had come up and shattered their peaceful existence. There had been no infidelity, no tragedy, no wild revelation. It had snuck in slow, and the fact that he didn't know what had caused it made it hard to know how to fix it.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden presence of a young man with a shy, warm smile and wavy brown hair. He extended his hand in greeting.

“Hi, Link. I'm Josh. You ready to come on back?”

Link blinked at him once or twice before standing. “Josh?” he repeated as he rose to his feet. The young man angled his head to indicate the hallway they were headed down as an invitation for Link to follow.

“Mr. Wallace if you’d prefer, though most people prefer a more informal approach. Whatever you're comfortable with is fine though.”

“No, no, Josh is good. You're just…”

Josh chuckled. “Young?”

“Kind of. You look like one of my employees. You don't by chance have a pet chinchilla, do you?”

Josh laughed out loud. “No, and I can honestly say that that is the first time anyone has ever asked me that question.”

When they'd reached a small room with a desk and a few armchairs, Josh invited Link to step through ahead of him, then he shut the door quietly behind them. He indicated two chairs sitting beside each other.

“Either spot here is fine. Can I get you anything to drink? Water or coffee?”

“No, thanks, I'm fine.” Link cleared his throat. “Actually, on second thought, maybe some water.”

Josh smiled and reached into a small refrigerator in the corner, pulling out a bottle and handing it to Link. Then he settled into the lone chair across from him and crossed an ankle over his knee.

“If it helps, I’m not quite as young as I look. I’ve got one of those faces.”

“I’m willing to bet you’re still younger than me,” Link countered.

Josh shrugged. “It’s possible. Does that bother you?”

Link raised his palms. “No, not at all!” He dropped his hands into his lap and looked away, fidgeting with his wedding ring.

“So, tell me why you’re here, Link.”

Link focused on the motion of his fingers, the twirling gold band slipping loosely between his first and second knuckle. “My husband doesn’t like me.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, he was embarrassed by them. They sounded petty and insecure, and it wasn’t at all the entrance he’d planned. But before he could backtrack and correct, Josh was speaking again.

“What makes you say that?”

Link sighed. “He told me. Well, sort of. He said he sometimes doesn’t like me.”

Josh only nodded. Link waited for a follow-up question, a _‘How does that make you feel?’_ , but when none was forthcoming, he continued.

“I guess I’m not being fair. I don’t like him all the time either. Is that just a human thing? I mean, no one likes anyone all the time.”

“Well, no relationship is perfect if that’s what you mean.”

Link nodded, his brow crinkled in thought. “For a long time I told myself that’s all this was. Just normal relationship tension.”

“You don’t think that anymore?”

Link shook his head slowly, then he looked up and met Josh’s eyes. “We used to be able to talk about anything. We’ve known each other almost our whole lives. We realized the summer after highschool that we were in love, and we’ve been together ever since. We started a business together, created a following, manage a team. Everything else we do together is like clockwork. Everything except marriage.”

Josh nodded. “How long have you felt this way?”

Link sighed. “It’s kind of hard to say. Because, like I said, I made excuses for it for a long time. Like it was normal imperfect marriage stuff. When other people seemed happier than us, I assumed it was just the same thing we were doing—pretending things were perfect for appearances. And I’m sure some of that’s true with other people too. But then I realized that I couldn’t talk to him like I used to. I don’t know if he’s changed, or me, or both of us. But it’s different now. It’s broken.”

Josh wrote something down on a pad of paper in his lap for just a moment before looking back up at Link. “What was your relationship like back then?”

Link sat back as he thought. He remembered the old them, the Rhett and Link that spent their days floating down the Cape Fear River, driving like maniacs through Buies Creek, chasing girls just to keep themselves from falling headlong into each other. He remembered their first kiss, Rhett drunk and wounded. He remembered the first time they touched each other. He remembered how it felt to come out to their parents and the way they knew that no matter what happened, they still had each other.

“We grew up in a different world,” Link told him, his voice soft and with a hint of his old drawl slipping back in. “It was the Bible Belt, and this...it wasn’t allowed. But we’d always had each other; it was the most solid thing in our lives. Rhett was grieving his parents’ marriage splitting up and was scared I’d break his heart someday. I told him I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t hurt him, but he…”

When he trailed off, the words lodging in his throat, Josh waited patiently. He didn’t avert his eyes, but when Link forced himself to meet his gaze, the man just smiled and nodded once in encouragement. Link took a deep breath before continuing.

“He trusted me. Everything in his life was changing, but I was his constant. He trusted me to be that for him even with all the crap that we were headed into. We couldn’t go to our church anymore, and the community turned its back on us. The bigotry wasn’t overt for the most part, at least not to our faces, though there were exceptions. But overall they just didn’t want to deal with their hometown boys turning gay, so they pretended we weren’t there. I think the whole community breathed a collective sigh of relief when we left for college that fall and were out of sight, out of mind. But our parents still had to face the judgment on our behalves.”

Link stopped and took a sip of his water, and Josh took the opportunity to reply. “That sounds rough. I’m sorry your community wasn’t more supportive. But your parents…?”

“It differed from person to person. Mine actually took it better than his, though everyone had an adjustment period. I think it helped that they’d watched us grow up together. We’d been in love for years and just hadn’t recognized it for what it was, but they’d seen it too. It wasn’t necessarily what they wanted to hear, but it wasn’t an all-out shock either. I don’t think their images in the community have ever fully recovered, but I think they’re over it. They love us more than their neighbors’ opinions of them.”

Josh smiled. “That’s wonderful.”

“It is! We’re grateful.” Link took a breath and leaned forward, his elbows pressed into his knees. “So we went off to college and just explored this new thing. Raleigh wasn’t Los Angeles, but we had a little more freedom to be ourselves there and settle into being out and proud, as they say. We were really happy. I think the rush of going against the grain injected some additional excitement into the novelty of a new relationship, which is already exciting when you’re in love and exploring that new dynamic for the first time. We had so much history and knew each other so completely already, so the transition into being lovers was relatively seamless. Other than figuring out the physical logistics of course, which took some time,” he said with a smirk. “As best friends we’d already crossed so many of the emotional hurdles when it came to communication, honesty, that sort of thing. There were challenges for us in being a couple, sure, but we had a really good thing between us already. We knew how to work through conflicts, so we applied those same principles to our new relationship.”

Josh nodded. “Do you still use those same conflict resolution methods that worked for you in the past?”

Link sighed. “We try. We’ve always had a policy of being completely honest with each other no matter what. I just think that some of what’s happening between us is a matter of us not recognizing exactly what the problem is. You can’t be honest if you don’t even know the truth for yourself.”

Josh nodded and scribbled something else onto his paper. “So what do you feel like you’d like to accomplish in our time together?”

“Well, obviously I’d like to figure out what we’re missing. I want to be able to be honest with him so we can get to the bottom of this. Something isn’t sitting right for me, and I can’t put my finger on what it is. But I feel...different. I don’t feel like the same man he married. And I can’t blame him for being unhappy when I’m not what he signed up for.”

“Do you feel like he’s the same man you married?”

“No,” Link answered definitively, “we’ve both changed. That’s normal I suppose. But I just...aw, crap.”

Josh’s eyebrows shot up in unspoken question as Link's face dropped into his palm. He had gone silent, and after a moment of waiting, Josh decided to nudge him forward. “Something you wanted to add?”

When Link raised his eyes, they reflected with a sheen of tears. “I just...need to figure out if we’re still right for each other. What if we’ve changed so much that we’re not good together anymore?”

***

Rhett was cooking dinner when he heard the back door open and shut. Link had left work early and taken their only car to the counseling clinic, so Rhett had arranged for a ride home from Stevie. It had been nice to talk to her a bit. She’d seen the tension between her bosses growing and was concerned, but she hadn’t pried. They both knew they could talk to her if they needed to, and when Rhett had finally decided he was ready to do so, she was there to listen. She hadn’t offered counsel—he hadn’t asked, after all. He’d just needed to have a neutral ear. Rhett hoped Link’s new therapist had filled a similar need.

Link dropped into one of the kitchen chairs to untie his shoes, and Rhett looked up from over the sauté pan. “How’d it go?”

Link nodded, then after a long pause, replied, “Good. It was fine.”

“What was he like?”

Link huffed a laugh through his nose. “He looked like Chase.”

Rhett laughed. “Really? That must have been weird.”

“I wasn’t sure I’d be able to open up. He seemed so...young. And Chase-like. Chase is great and all, but I’m not about to vent my marriage problems to him.”

Rhett’s mouth tightened, and he kept his eyes carefully focused on the task in front of him. “So what did you say?”

Link pressed himself to his feet with a light groan and stretched his arms long, his shirt creeping up and revealing a strip of flesh above his waistband. Then he yawned and sidled up next to Rhett at the stove, peering into the pan. “I said it was all a big misunderstanding and our marriage is actually perfect.”

Rhett rolled his eyes and breathed a chuckle through his nose. “Fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll say all kinds of crap about you when I go.”

“Please do. Get it off your chest. But I didn’t complain about you, for the record.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Why?”

Rhett laughed. “Because I know I’m irritating. And I know our problems aren’t all your fault.”

“I never said they were. I don’t know that they’re anyone’s fault.”

“Everything is someone’s fault.”

“Really?” Link asked, incredulous. “You believe that?”

Rhett shrugged. “I dunno. I just think if you really dig, every human conflict is going to have some root in at least one person’s poor choices. It's probably more complex than blaming one person allows, but I tend to think there's a root somewhere of selfishness or stubbornness or something along those lines.”

“So where do you lay the blame?” Link asked as he pulled open the refrigerator to search for a beverage. He settled on a bottle of some local hipster beer Rhett had bought.

“You really want to start a conversation about where we should lay the blame for our marriage problems? Are you actually trying to start a fight?”

Link sighed as he opened his bottle, only to abandon it on the counter as he leaned into Rhett's side. Rhett lifted his arm to wrap it around his husband’s shoulders.

“You remember when we fell in love?” Link asked, his voice distant.

“No. It was so slow. It wasn't all at once for me.”

“But what about when you realized it for the first time? Can't you tell me about that?”

Rhett set down his wooden spoon and flipped off the burner on the stove, then he leaned back against the island behind him, pulling Link back with him. “You really want to hear that story again?”

“Why wouldn't I?”

“It doesn't paint me in a very good light.”

Link shook his head. “I don't care. It's important.”

Rhett sighed. “I was getting a girl off in a pond.”

“Megan.”

“Megan,” Rhett confirmed. “She looked a lot like you. I hadn't seen it until the moment she was...you know. Anyway, the look on her face was so euphoric and beautiful, and I realized I wanted it to be your face. That I was with her, but I really wanted to be with you.”

Link nodded against Rhett's side. “You ever hear from her?”

“Who, Megan? Nah. She kind of hated me after all that mess.”

“Not even on Facebook or anything?”

“Link, you know I don't use Facebook aside from our business account. And we leave that to the crew anyway.”

“Not even a secret account? Fake name, that sort of thing?”

Rhett pulled away and looked down at him. “I can't tell if you're joking.”

Link slipped out from under Rhett’s arm and turned around to face his beer which he lifted to his lips. Rhett squinted at him.

“Are you joking? Help me out here.”

Link shrugged one shoulder and looked at Rhett over the mouth of his bottle.

“Do you think I hide things from you?” Rhett prompted.

“How would I know if you did? Isn’t that the point of hiding?”

“What exactly are you accusing me of?”

Link exhaled loudly and set his drink back down on the island. “I’m not accusing you of anything. I just...I don’t blame you for being unhappy.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Then why did you say it? It means something or you wouldn’t have said it.”

Link rolled his eyes and took his beer to the table, putting more distance between himself and his husband. He sat heavily, and without looking up he could feel Rhett’s eyes on him.

After a long silence, Rhett huffed and gripped the handle of the sauté pan that had cooled slightly on the stovetop. With noisy, indelicate movements, he pulled two plates from the cabinet and dropped them onto the countertop, then he scraped some of the contents of his pan—pork cutlets and stir-fried veggies—onto each, followed by a scoop of white rice from a saucepan Link hadn’t noticed sitting on the back burner. He grabbed both plates and moved them to the table, dropping one in front of Link and depositing the other at the empty seat beside his. He went back to retrieve some silverware and to pull another beer from the fridge before finally taking his seat.

“Are we done talking?” Link asked once Rhett was cutting into his pork.

“Must be. You stopped participating.”

“What do you want me to say?”

Rhett huffed in annoyance and dropped his silverware onto his plate. “You want me to hand you a script? Link, I want you to say something _real_. You don’t have to protect my feelings. Just tell me what you’re thinking for once. I’m sick of guessing.”

Link poked at the mound of rice with his fork. “I don’t know what I’m thinking.”

“How can you not know what you’re thinking?”

“I don’t know!” Link blurted, exasperated. “That’s the problem! Why the hell do you think I’m seeing a shrink anyway? If I had all my thoughts sorted out in my head, do you really think I would have suggested this?”

Rhett leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest. “So what did you do with your therapist then? Did you just sit there not knowing what to say?”

Link shook his head slowly.

“So can’t you start there? Can’t you tell me anything you said?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“Why do you need to hide it? Didn’t we used to be able to tell each other everything?”

Link set his fork down on his plate. “Yes.”

“So what’s changed? Why can’t you talk to me?”

He shook his head again. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

Link looked up and met Rhett’s eyes. When he didn’t immediately answer, Rhett swallowed hard, his voice dropping to nearly a whisper.

“Why? Why wouldn’t you trust me?”

“It’s not about not trusting you,” Link said. “I think it’s that I don’t trust myself. I feel like Wilson on _Castaway_. Like I’m drifting away and I’m powerless to stop it. And if you don’t come after me…”

Rhett swallowed hard and reached out, placing his palm over Link’s hand where it rested on the tabletop. “What do you need? What can I do?”

Link closed his eyes. “I don’t know.”

“How can I help you if you can’t tell me what you need?”

“I don’t know, Rhett! I don’t know anything! I just know that you feel farther away from me than you ever have in our lives, and it terrifies me. Without you I don’t know who I am. And maybe…”

Rhett cocked his head. “Maybe what?”

“Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I don’t know who I am apart from you.”

“So what does that mean?”

Link pulled his hand out from under Rhett’s grasp and picked up his knife and fork. “I don’t know. I’m tired. It’s been a long day. Can we please just eat our dinner?”

Rhett retracted his hand hesitantly and picked up his own silverware. They ate in silence, and when the meal was over, Link hopped to his feet to clean up. Normally they would take on the task together, but when Rhett tried to pitch in, Link waved him away.

“I’ve got it. Go relax.”

Resigned, Rhett moved to the living room and flipped on the TV. He put on a documentary that he figured Link would be interested in once he came in from the kitchen, but after a full episode had played without Link’s appearance, Rhett began to wonder what was keeping him.

“Babe, where are you?” he called into the open space of the house. When no answer came back, he tried again. “Link?”

Rhett picked up the remote and switched off the TV. The house was dead quiet without it, no sound of Link busying himself anywhere. Rhett roamed the house until eventually he made it to their bedroom. Link was fast asleep.


	3. The First Time

Rhett lay in bed, staring at the ceiling in the darkness.

_I’m losing him._

He couldn’t stop replaying Link’s words from their conversation at dinner: _'I feel like Wilson on Castaway. Like I’m drifting away and I’m powerless to stop it. And if you don’t come after me…'_ It was a silly analogy, but it made sense. And the visual terrified him. He turned his head and took in the dim outline of the man beside him. He could barely see him in the dark, but he knew the sight so well his brain had no trouble filling in the gaps. Link’s hair was loose and messy, spilling across his forehead and the pillow. His lips were slightly parted, his eyelids twitching with the activity of his dreams. Rhett wondered where his husband escaped to in the privacy of his unconscious mind.

 _'Maybe I don’t know who I am apart from you.'_ It had never occurred to Rhett to be bothered by this, but he had to wonder now. Did he feel the same way? Or did he manage to find his own individuality inside himself in a way Link hadn’t been able to? He knew they weren’t identical people. He had interests that Link didn’t share, and while neither of them spent a large amount of time apart from the other, he had his way of pursuing those things. He read about topics that interested him. He occasionally took the spontaneous camping weekend alone in the desert, though admittedly this was rare. But it was something. Even in their work dynamic, he took solace in the fact that their differences in strengths allowed them to work toward their projects in different ways, and that gave him a sense of self that was both connected with Link yet still his own.

But Link was drowning, and Rhett hadn’t even seen it. He could kick himself for not seeing it. Sure, he’d seen that he was unhappy, but he hadn’t been able to puzzle out the root of it. Was this what it was, the source of their problems? Link had expressed both a need to find out who he was apart from Rhett and a need for Rhett to chase after him before he drifted away. It felt like a contradiction. How could he chase him while giving him space? What was really going on in his head?

Rhett reached out and brushed the hair back from Link’s face. In his sleep he looked so young. When they were kids, Rhett had felt like his protector. Rhett’s brother Cole had served in that role for him, but Link had no big brother, and even though Rhett wasn’t much older than him, he was bigger. He’d made sure anyone who thought about bothering Link knew that he’d have to go through him first.

But by the time they got together romantically, their roles had reversed. Rhett crumbled when his home life fell apart, and Link was his rock. He had stood by Rhett, tried to keep him from as much self-destruction as possible, though Rhett hadn’t made that easy. He’d made mistakes, but he knew they would have been even worse if not for Link. Link rescued him. Rhett owed him everything.

_I can't lose him._

Rhett scooted in close and lay on his side facing his husband, almost nose-to-nose. Nostalgia stirred up his affection, and he found himself trying to memorize his face like he had in the early days, the days just after he’d finally allowed himself to believe that he loved Link in a way that far surpassed the friendship and brotherhood they’d always had. Even then, however, memorization wasn’t needed—he’d known Link’s face by heart for years already, and all the more so now, after fifteen years of marriage.

Their marriage hadn’t become legal until more recently, but even though it had bothered them to know that so much bigotry still existed in their country, they hadn’t ever considered their marriage lacking without the legality. It had always been as real as it was now with its fancy certificate. They’d had their wedding when they wanted it, and when the law allowed them to marry officially, they’d thrown another party, but it hadn’t been another wedding. Paper didn’t make it real. Marriage was a covenant, a promise to stand together and make a home together even when things got hard.

Rhett’s palm cupped the side of Link’s head, his thumb stroking the ridge of his brow, and slowly it roused Link from sleep. His eyes cracked open and adjusted to the darkness.

“You okay?” he murmured, surprised by the uncharacteristic affection.

Rhett nodded against his pillow. “I’m okay. I just miss you.”

Link smiled sleepily. “I miss you too.”

“You wanna go on a date?”

Link chuckled. “Not a business meeting? Or a Netflix binge? A real live date?”

“Anything you wanna do,” Rhett promised.

“Sounds nice. Lemme think about it. Too sleepy.”

Rhett breathed out a quiet laugh. “Okay. You let me know. But if I need to get reservations, give me a little warning, okay?”

“You got it, hubby.”

Rhett leaned in and kissed Link’s forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

Link was one step ahead of him.

***

The host led them to a dark room that looked like an old library, the walls lined with filled bookshelves. Each small, round table was outfitted with a glass candle holder that refracted the flame from the tea light within. Tables rounded the edges of the room, each one flanked on the wall side by a bench seat and on the other by a plush, ottoman-like stool. The atmosphere of the room was warm, with deep browns and golden accents, but the air was gratefully cooler than one might have expected in such a cozy setting.

Link and Rhett were shown to their table, and despite Rhett’s protests, Link took the stool. He swore he would be comfortable there and didn’t want Rhett to have to sit somewhere that might bother his back. Rhett grinned as he looked around the room.

“Did you pick this place because you knew I’d like the ambiance? This is more of a me place than a you place.”

Link shrugged one shoulder and smiled. “Maybe.”

“This was supposed to be a date for you!”

“Why? It’s been just as long since you’ve had one. Presumably.”

Rhett gave him a sarcastic smirk, and Link grinned, his tongue poking through his teeth playfully. He picked up the menu and scanned the contents, trying to keep his expression from reflecting his internal reaction to the prices. They had enough money to treat themselves once in awhile, but they weren’t in the habit of doing it much. He reminded himself that this was important, quality time for the sake of their marriage, and Shake Shack wasn't going to cut it. It was good to get out and do something special. They'd dressed to the nines, and with the way Rhett was looking at him, Link must have looked as good as he felt.

Rhett was no slouch himself. He was wearing the suit he'd worn for their most recent appearance on _The Tonight Show_ , dark blue slacks and jacket over a floral print shirt. Link wore a suit left over from the _Streamys_ , burgundy over blue plaid. They hadn’t coordinated on purpose, but it was no shock that it had happened by accident.

“So…” Link began, breaking the silence that had settled between them. “Are you nervous about starting therapy this week?”

Rhett shook his head. “It’s no big deal, right? It’s just talking. You said it was helpful.”

“It was.”

“So what’s there to be nervous about?”

“I wasn’t accusing you of being nervous, I was just asking. It was just conversation.”

“Okay, okay,” Rhett held out his palms in surrender. “I was being defensive. I’m sorry.”

Link shook out his shoulders, loosening the tension he was holding there. “Let’s not talk about therapy, okay? Let’s talk about something...easy.”

“Okay,” Rhett answered, “like what?”

“Did Stevie follow up with you about that sponsor deal? What was it, some gum company? I can’t even remember now.”

Rhett rolled his eyes. “How about no work either, huh?”

“Fine. That was my contribution. Your turn.”

Rhett sighed and picked up the drink menu the host had laid on the table. He already knew what he wanted, but he needed a moment to gather his thoughts. Their same old patterns weren’t going to magically dissolve into romance just because they adjusted the setting. He set the menu back down, rested his elbows on the table, and folded his hands in front of his chin as he looked at Link. His husband’s eyes were on the dinner menu, but when he sensed Rhett’s gaze he set it back down.

“You remember the first time we made love?” Rhett asked him. Link’s eyes went wide and the blood rushed to his face.

“Rhett!” he scolded in a harsh whisper. He glanced sideways at the neighboring tables, but if the other guests had overheard, they had chosen not to react. “That’s a little private for a room full of people, don’t you think?”

Rhett shrugged. “No one’s paying attention. Besides, who cares? Do you remember or not?”

Link rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Why would you ask me that? Why would you think I would forget something like that?”

“I was so nervous,” Rhett went on, ignoring Link’s questions. “And so excited.”

Link chuckled in spite of himself. When he spoke, he kept his voice low, just barely audible from across the small table. “What were you nervous about?”

“Everything. Whether it would hurt. Whether someone would walk in on us. Whether we were gonna go to hell.”

Link’s mouth tightened. “I hate that you thought that.”

“Didn’t you?”

Link shrugged. “I guess I chose not to worry about it. I just wanted to be with you, consequences be damned.”

Rhett smiled at him. “Did you like it, the first time?”

“There’s no way we haven’t talked about this before.”

“Who cares? Did you?”

“Of course I did!” Link realized his volume had crept up, and he quickly lowered his voice again. “I mean...it was sex, right? What’s not to love?”

“You always love sex?”

Link blushed again, and he looked down at his fingers and fidgeted with his ring, avoiding Rhett’s eyes. “I always love the _outcome_ of sex…”

“You mean deeper intimacy with your husband?”

Link rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh through his nose. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I meant.”

“Mm-hmm. That’s what I thought.”

Link chuckled and shook his head. “Why’re you askin’ me all this?”

Rhett folded his arms on the table and leaned into them. “I’m trying to figure out how to come after you. You said you feel like you’re drifting away, and I don’t want that to happen. I love you. I don’t want to lose you. But I don’t know what you need, and you told me you don’t either. So I’m just trying to find you.” He reached a hand across the table and laid his palm upward in invitation, and after a beat, Link slid his own hand into it. Rhett wrapped his fingers around Link’s and stroked his knuckles with the pad of his thumb. “I’m sorry. I know you said you don’t think it’s anyone’s fault, but I know I’ve let you down. You’re the most important thing in my life. I need you to know that.”

“I know that, Rhett.”

“But do you?” Rhett cut in. “Do you really feel like that’s true, or are you saying it because you know that’s what I want you to believe?”

Link casually pulled his hand from Rhett’s grasp when their server arrived at the table. She took their drink orders quickly and left them to continue their conversation, but Link had retreated into himself. Rhett laid his hand down open on the table again, but this time it remained empty.

“Rhett…you said you wanted me to say something real.”

Rhett closed his palm and pulled it back to his side of the table as he nodded.

Link sighed. “You’re right. I don’t feel like it’s true.”

Rhett furrowed his brow. “Is that what all this is about?”

Link shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. I think it’s a lot of things. But this is probably part of that, so it’s something to address.”

“What do you think is more important to me than you?”

Link met his eyes across the table. “I think you get the things that involve me confused with _me_. Me, your husband. Not me, your business partner. I’m both, yes, but I’m your husband first.”

“Of course you are.”

Link scoffed. “You say that like it’s a given. All our time is spent working or just coexisting at home. Everything works well, but when’s the last time we really connected?”

“You want to go out more? We can schedule a weekly date night—”

“That’s not the _point,_ Rhett!” Link paused and sighed to calm himself again. “What’s the point of going on more dates if we’re just trying to force something to happen?”

“What are we trying to force?”

“This!” Link gestured back and forth between them. “What _are_ we anymore? We’re just a brand! We’re comfortable and familiar and we know how to work like clockwork, but where’s the love?”

“You don’t think I love you?”

“Would you stop trying to argue me out of what I feel?”

Rhett snapped his mouth shut and sat back, folding his arms across his chest. Link’s eyes darted as he weighed out his next statements in his mind, one at a time, before deciding which was the right one. Their server returned with their drinks, and Rhett ordered his meal while Link glanced over the menu again. He hated being rushed to decide, but he was in no mood to focus on food anyway so he picked the first thing that appealed to him. She took their menus and disappeared again. Link took a sip of his vodka soda when he saw Rhett pick up his bourbon, then he continued, his voice calm and quiet once more.

“I know you’re just trying to understand. I appreciate the effort. But it almost…”

Rhett wanted to nudge him to continue, but he refused to exhibit that much eagerness. In his own time, Link went on.

“It almost feels like too little, too late.”

“So I should just give up? You’re not having it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Okay,” Rhett conceded. “Then what are you saying?”

Link sighed. “I need you to stop pretending nothing has changed. We need to acknowledge that we’re not the same people we were when we got together.”

Rhett nodded, his eyebrows creased. “I don’t have any problem acknowledging that, Link. We’re a lot older now. Everything has changed.”

“Yes,” Link said, “exactly. Everything has changed.”

Something about the weight of Link’s words made Rhett’s stomach flip. “Everything?”

“You said it first.”

***

Neither of them had the energy to continue their date after dinner. They were home by 9:00. Link shut the door gently behind him, turning the locks and flipping off the outside lights. He hated the noise his shoes made as he moved to the kitchen for a drink of water—they disturbed the quiet of the house, a quiet he desperately needed right now. Rhett had led the way into the house and disappeared up the stairs without a word, and Link let him go. He filled a glass from the water dispenser in the fridge door and leaned back against the island to drink it slowly. He knew Rhett was trying. He knew he wasn’t being fair. But he also knew that Rhett’s efforts reflected in this moment in time weren’t representative of the years their marriage had spent unraveling. They’d both stopped trying; they’d considered their relationship a given, a sturdy, ancient tree that didn’t need nearly the attention of the gardens surrounding it. But he had started to realize that when disease and rot set in, the clock starts ticking. And when the tree goes down, everything in its path gets crushed.

Link dumped the remainder of his water in the sink and left the glass on the counter for tomorrow. Then he flipped off the lights still left on and made his way upstairs.

The only light was coming from beneath the door to the master bath, and Link switched on the lamp on his nightstand. He sat on his side of the bed to untie his shoes and slip off his socks, putting the shoes in the closet and the socks in the hamper. He stripped off the suit and laid its components neatly over the back of a chair in the corner of the room, and he wondered idly why they even owned it. Rarely did anyone sit in it.

He expected Rhett to emerge quickly, but after sitting on the bed for several minutes chewing his fingernails, Link heard the shower turn on. He sat, weighing his options. He didn’t know what he had gotten so angry about in the restaurant. Now he just felt tired. Everything in him was tired—his body, his mind, his soul. His whole life felt tired. He wanted to climb into bed and be asleep before Rhett returned, but that was perpetuating the pattern. So he made his decision.

He stripped off his boxers and stepped to the bathroom door, glad to find it unlocked. Rhett didn’t normally lock it, but Link wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d decided to keep him out this time. He pushed it open quietly and shut it again behind him, keeping in the steam. After leaving his glasses on the counter, Link pulled open the glass shower door and stepped inside.

Rhett’s face was angled toward the spray, but when Link’s hands snaked around his middle from behind, some of the tension in Rhett’s shoulders melted slightly. Link pressed his cheek between Rhett’s shoulder blades and squeezed his ribcage.

“I’m sorry.”

Rhett ducked out of the stream and wiped the water from his face with both hands, then he turned around in Link’s embrace and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. He dropped his chin to the top of Link’s head.

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

“Yes, I do. I accused you of holding me at arm’s length, but that’s exactly what I’m doing to you.”

“I probably started it.”

Link didn’t answer. They held each other, still and quiet beneath the warm water cascading over Rhett’s shoulders. After a long pause, Link whispered, his throat gravelly with emotion.

“I feel so lost, Rhett.”

Rhett sighed and pulled him tighter, then he dropped his lips to Link’s hair. He wanted to answer, but he sensed Link just needed him to be quiet and listen for once.

“We used to be such a sure thing. If nothing else was working, we still were. Why can’t we make this work anymore? What are we missing?”

Rhett cleared his throat; it felt tight and unpredictable. Leaning down, he lifted Link’s head from his chest and kissed his forehead. “I want to make this work. I wanna fight for you.”

Link’s face crumpled into a sob, and he pressed his face back into Rhett’s chest. Rhett stroked the back of his hair and kissed the crown of his head. When Link’s sobs had begun to abate, Rhett inclined his head and murmured in his ear.

“Let’s get you dried off, bo.”

Link nodded, and Rhett reached behind his back to turn the shower knob off. He grabbed the towel he’d chosen for himself and began to pat Link dry, then he guided him out onto the bathmat and dried off his own skin. When he finished, he realized Link was shivering, and he wrapped the towel around his husband and led him out of the bathroom and to the bed.

Link allowed himself to be led without resistance. His breakdown in the shower had drained him even further, something he hadn’t imagined possible. He lay down on his back and looked up at Rhett standing over him at the side of the bed, naked and golden in the lamplight, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. He was keeping his distance, trying to weigh out what Link needed, when to hold back and when to move in. He looked as lost as Link felt.

When Link didn’t shut down and turn away from him, Rhett climbed over his husband’s legs to his side of the bed. He stretched out on his side facing Link, his head propped up in his hand. Link rolled to face him, and they looked each other over, searching eyes and faces for answers.

Link moved first. He reached for Rhett’s cheek and stroked his beard with his thumb. His eyes traced the motion of his hand, while Rhett’s stayed locked on Link’s face. Link’s thumb moved to Rhett’s lips, grazing the soft skin back and forth. He was slow and deliberate when he leaned in to kiss him. Rhett responded tentatively, trying to follow his husband’s lead, opening his mouth only when he felt Link’s tongue tasting his lips. Link deepened the kiss as he ran his fingers back into Rhett’s damp hair. He gripped hard with both hands and dragged Rhett up and over, shifting his own body to lie back flat on the bed as he directed Rhett over him, their mouths still locked together.

When Rhett was allowed to come up for air, he leaned down and pressed his lips gently to the side of Link’s neck, then whispered in his ear. “What do you need, baby?”

Link hated the tears that resurfaced at the sound of Rhett’s words. “I don’t know,” he whimpered, and Rhett lifted his head, worry on his face. Rhett looked pained and helpless at the sight of Link’s tears, and he cupped his head with one hand and leaned down to kiss the wetness from his husband’s closed eyelids.

“You want me to leave you alone? You need some space?”

“No,” Link whispered. “Please, no. Don’t leave me.”

“I’m never gonna leave you, Link.”

A fresh, choked sob burst from Link’s throat, and he threw his arm over his eyes to shield them from Rhett’s gaze. So Rhett moved down his body, planting slow kisses along his collarbones and down his chest, tracing his ribs, pressing into the soft, smooth plane of his belly.

“You want me to stop?” he asked with a glance up Link’s body. Link’s arm remained draped over his face, but he shook his head, so Rhett continued on. He cupped a hand over Link’s manhood where it lay soft against his body, and he kissed the angular bones of Link’s hips. Link’s breathing was heavy and labored, more from emotion than arousal, though Rhett could feel a slight twitch beginning beneath his palm. He wrapped his fingers around the flesh in his hand and squeezed gently, inviting Link to respond, and as Rhett lay a trail of lazy kisses to the place where leg met groin, Link’s cock began to fill his hand. The kisses travelled from base to tip, and Link sighed. Rhett looked up.

“You okay?”

Link dropped his arm to the bed but kept his eyes on the ceiling. “Yeah. It’s good.”

Rhett climbed back up his body, leaving his right hand still wrapped around Link’s half-erection and stroking languidly. “What would make it better?”

“Tell me more about our first time.”

“Really? Our first time was not our best time.”

Link chuckled. “What was our best time?”

“Well,” Rhett rolled to lay on his side again, this time with his body pressed up against Link’s side, his hand still stroking. “It’s hard to say, really. The first was good in its own way. It was special.”

Link nodded and smiled, and Rhett continued.

“But there was that time we went camping with my family after freshman year of college.”

“Oh gosh. I can’t believe they let us stay in the same tent!”

“I can’t believe they let me bring you at all! They knew we were fucking.”

Link slapped him in the chest. “Why you gotta be so vulgar about it?”

Rhett chuckled. “You remember that time up on Raven Rock?”

“That was a terrible idea. We could have gotten arrested.”

“That was half the fun!”

“You have a thing for outdoor sex.”

“Outdoor sex is some of the best sex you can have.”

Link chuckled again, then his eyes fluttered closed and his lips parted. Rhett watched his expression and picked up the pace of his fist.

“Lube,” Link whispered, and Rhett let go of his erection long enough to reach over him to a drawer in Link’s nightstand. He extricated the bottle, squirted a dollop on his palm, and got back to work. Link’s face went slack when Rhett’s now-slippery hand returned to his cock.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah?”

“C’mere.”

Rhett slid his left hand behind Link’s head as he leaned in to kiss him. Link’s kisses were open and eager, with soft grunts and groans punctuating the air as his excitement grew. Rhett had begun to thrust up against his hip, and Link winced.

“You’re gonna bruise me, brother.”

“Sorry.”

“You wanna…?”

Rhett huffed out a laugh. “Uh, yeah, I wanna. I always wanna.” He pulled his hand from Link’s body and added another dollop of lube to his palm, slicking himself up and using the extra on his fingers to moisten Link’s entrance. Then he lifted each of Link’s legs up over his shoulders and lined himself up.

“You want to pretend it’s our first time?” he asked with a grin.

Link rolled his eyes. “You want to be awkward and nervous and come in five seconds?”

Rhett laughed. “Shut up, man! Take it as a compliment!”

“Lucky me!”

Rhett shook his head and chuckled as he began to press himself inside. He moved slowly, a bit at a time as Link gradually relaxed around him, until eventually their hips were flush. He held still and tipped his head to the side, resting it against Link’s knee and watching his face. Link’s eyes were closed, his hand wrapped casually around his length.

“Link.”

Link’s eyes opened.

“You here with me?”

Link swallowed and nodded. Then he closed his eyes again. Rhett felt the loss, but he began to move, hoping to coax Link back to him without words. He pressed a hand into the mattress and leaned into it, folding Link’s body easily and bringing their faces closer together. Link stroked himself but stayed hidden behind his eyelids.

“Link,” Rhett whispered, “please look at me.”

Link opened his eyes again and focused on his husband. They moved together as they’d done thousands of times, their pleasure practiced and predictable. Their lovemaking lacked the excitement and adventure of the first time, but at least they knew what to expect. They knew what worked. When Link was close, he reached up and gripped Rhett’s bicep as he always did, grounding them together in the last moments. Rhett watched the way his face changed, slack and relaxed until his climax began to crest and his features contracted. His mouth went wide in a silent, choking cry, and his back arched off the bed, his neck red and straining. Rhett lowered his head to the crook of Link’s neck when his own orgasm began, and he rode through it with panting gasps against Link’s skin, tasting his sweat.

He carefully slid himself out of Link’s body and rolled to his side again as they caught their breath. Link grabbed a couple tissues from a box on his nightstand and handed one to Rhett, and they cleaned up in silence. Then Rhett lay his head down on Link’s shoulder.

“We’re gonna be okay, brother.”

Link didn’t answer. Rhett wrapped his arm across Link’s chest, and Link ran his fingertips up and down through the hairs on Rhett’s arm. He reached over and switched off the lamp, plunging them into darkness, then pulled up the blankets to cover them.

“Promise me,” Link whispered.

“I promise we’ll be okay.”

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s always been you and me against the world. And I’d no sooner let you go than cut off my own arm.”

Link sighed and rolled into his embrace. Rhett held him, happy to be permitted this moment of intimacy. He knew he could promise Link the world, but he couldn’t guarantee that Link would take it. Rhett knew he was still drifting. But he’d be damned if he was going to let him drift away.


	4. To Get Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my ladies [Sarah](http://heatgeneratingtechniques.tumblr.com), [Ren](http://loudspeakr.tumblr.com), and [Wolfie](http://wellknownwolf.tumblr.com) for their role in dragging my sorry ass through this chapter when it was giving me trouble. They basically came up with all the important stuff. I'm just the vessel. Smooches to each of you!

“I really don’t think I need to be here.”

Rhett’s therapist smiled. She had a great smile, full lips suspended beneath high cheekbones. He waited for her to reply, to ask what he meant or try to convince him that he was wrong. But she just smiled patiently. He cleared his throat.

“Here’s the situation, Doc—”

“—Lauren,” she said, holding up her hand in apology for the interruption. “Call me Lauren. I’m not actually a doctor, but I am a licensed therapist. Anyway, sorry, go on.”

He nodded. “Lauren. My husband suggested we do this individually before we start couple’s therapy. We haven’t been happy for a long time, which really doesn’t make any sense because we’re perfect for each other.”

She smiled again. “That’s wonderful.”

“See? Yes. It is. We’re doing great.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “You’re doing great? Not unhappy anymore?”

Rhett pressed his elbows into his thighs and leaned forward, folding his hands. “I guess I shouldn’t jump the gun and say we’re doing great. But we’re on the mend now. It’s been rough for a while. We’ve just been growing apart, you know? But I think we’re gonna be okay.”

“You sound very optimistic. Did something happen to tell you things were on the way up?”

“We went on a date. Which isn’t much, I know. And it wasn’t even perfect. But I feel like we got some things settled. He opened up a bit, more than he has in a while. And I stopped being a jerk for maybe five minutes, which may be a new record.”

Lauren chuckled, and Rhett smiled self-deprecatingly.

“It’s just that we’ve always been the perfect team. We’ve been together pretty much our whole lives, and we’ve conquered everything together. I don’t think this should be any different. We can do this on our own. We always have.”

“Have you asked him if he feels the same way?”

Rhett sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Not exactly. I can do that, I suppose.”

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea. What do you think he might say?”

He stroked his beard as he considered. “He trusts me. And I trust him. I know he asked for us to go to therapy, so I guess I can’t say that he doesn’t want it. But our relationship has literally always been the bottom line; when we trusted nothing else, we trusted us. Despite everything, I don’t think that’s changed.”

“And do you feel that seeing therapists independently of one another means you’re not trusting your relationship?”

When he couldn’t think of an answer, he pointed at Lauren with a grin. “Ya got me.” She smiled. “But I still think we’ve got it under control,” he said, leaning forward again. “We’ve had rough times before. We’ve always gotten through them.”

“Do you want to tell me about any of the previous rough times?”

“It was a rough season when we first got together. My parents separated and I fell apart a little bit. It didn’t help that I was coming to grips with my feelings for Link for the first time, and it terrified me, so it pushed me over the edge even more. He pulled me back though. I don’t know what ditch I might have ended up in if it hadn’t been for him.”

“He sounds like a great guy.”

“Yeah. He’s the best person I know.”

She wrote something on her pad of paper, speaking as she wrote. “Anything else?”

“All the big changes in life, you know? Coming out, that was big, but we had each other. We got jobs after college and were both unhappy with them, and we gave it all up to get into entertainment. It was a huge risk, and we had failures along the way. TV deals that went south. Financial struggles. But we never, ever had to face being alone in it. And we knew each other so well that no matter what, we had that sure thing. We could have been homeless and penniless but still had each other, and that would have been something to count on.”

“So does this circumstance differ from those experiences in some way?”

“I just don’t get what’s happening in his head. I know we’ve changed, but we’ve changed together, you know? We’ve still always been in sync with each other. I don’t understand what his problem is. What are we missing that we haven’t always had? When did I stop being enough for him?”

Rhett’s mouth snapped shut and his eyebrows shot up. Lauren smiled gently when he met her eyes, but he looked away.

“I just need to keep being there for him. He’s got to work through this in his own way, but what we’ve always had has always worked. Changing things is more likely to upset the balance in the long run.”

“It sounds like the balance might have already been upset, don’t you think?”

Rhett ran his fingers into his hair, then pressed up against his knees to a stand.

“Thank you for your time, Lauren. I’ll call to reschedule if I decide I need to.”

Their time had barely begun, but he turned and left her office without another word. He waved amicably at the receptionist as if everything were in order and strode from the building.

***

Link looked up in surprise when their office door swung open and Rhett’s towering frame ducked through the doorway. He glanced at the clock, then back at Rhett.

“I thought your appointment was at 10:00.”

“It was. We were so efficient we finished early.” He tossed Link a nonchalant smile, then looked away as he moved to his desk.

“You paid full price and didn’t get a full hour?”

“I got my money’s worth. Don’t worry about it.”

“Did it go okay?”

Rhett huffed audibly from his desk. “How did the writers’ meeting go?”

Link swiveled his chair around. “Rhett.”

“Yes?”

“Talk to me.”

“I'm trying. How did the meeting go?”

Link sighed, rolled his eyes, and turned back toward his desk. “ _This_ is our problem, you know.”

“What, me? I'm the problem? I thought we weren't laying blame.”

“Fine,” Link barked. “Forget it. The meeting was fine.”

The air between them was thin and oxygen-deprived. Link flexed his knuckles as his hands hovered over his keyboard. He’d known better than to be fooled by Rhett's rare show of empathy over the weekend. He shouldn't have let himself get his hopes up. His eyes pricked with frustrated tears, and he had rolled his chair back to go get some distance when Rhett's voice punctuated the silence.

“Link,” he sighed, “I'm sorry.”

Link let his fists sit balled-up tight on his knees. He opened his mouth to answer but closed it again.

“Can you turn around? Can you look at me?”

With a sigh, Link conceded. He rotated his seat and pinned his husband with a glare.

“I told you we'd be okay and I meant it. We're okay, Link. You can trust me.”

Link swallowed the lump in his throat. “How was therapy?”

Rhett rubbed his beard. “It was fine. It was good.”

“That's all I get?”

“That's all you gave me after _you_ went.”

Link pressed his index finger to his lips. “Touché.”

“So we're good?”

“For the moment.”

“I'll take it,” Rhett said with a grin. “So, the meeting went well?”

Link shrugged. “Same as usual. Some good ideas, some stinkers. Nothing crazy.”

“Speaking of which: I’ve got something crazy.”

Link narrowed his eyes at him. “Crazy how?”

Rhett stood and paced into the center of the room, stopping halfway to the couch before turning back to face him with his hands outstretched animatedly.

“GMM goes on location.”

“What location?”

“Anywhere!” Rhett said, his eyes wide with excitement. “Somewhere new, somewhere exotic! We could use a vacation anyway.”

Link swallowed. “We gonna bring the whole crew?”

“We’ll use a skeleton crew. Just bare essentials. And we can send footage back digitally for editing.”

Link turned back to his computer and lowered his voice. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Gosh, I don’t know. Mexico? Hawaii? Freaking Japan for all I care!”

“Tokyo?”

Rhett squinted and wagged his finger accusingly. “I don’t have to do it if we’re not on camera.”

Link rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Whatever, man.”

Rhett strode to Link’s desk and crouched down beside him. “Doesn’t it sound nice, though? To get away? We’ll still be working, but we can change things up. Don’t you think it might help?”

Link sighed and kept his eyes on his computer screen. “Maybe.”

***

Rhett had lulled himself into a trance with the rhythmic sound of the treadmill beneath his feet. It was just a brisk walk after his session with his trainer. Normally he would listen to music while he walked, but his mind was whirring with possibilities, and somehow the whir of the track beneath him and the familiar noise of the gym around him made for a more pleasing backdrop for his thoughts.

He was glad Link hadn’t shot down his idea for a set of offsite GMM episodes. He couldn’t believe his own brilliance—a fresh idea for the show coupled with an excuse to get away and connect with his husband in a new setting, all while on the clock. It really was an idea wide open to possibilities. They could go anywhere they pleased. Tokyo would be a fun, relevant option, but Rhett wanted to try to help Link be as excited about this as possible. Anywhere he wanted to go, they would go. He hadn’t seemed overly-enthusiastic when Rhett had brought it up the day before, but he hoped giving him the choice of location would help that.

Rhett was startled from his thoughts when his husband hopped onto the treadmill beside him, the visible skin on his arms, shoulders, and upper chest glistening with sweat. Link wiped his face with the hand towel he was carrying before poking at the controls and bringing the belt immediately up to a jogging pace.

“How’d your training go?” Rhett asked.

Link nodded. “Good.”

“You must have been pushing yourself. You look exhausted.”

“I’m fine.” He pushed the buttons on his machine to bring the speed up higher.

“Don’t you want to warm up with a walk first?”

“I don’t look warm enough to you?”

Rhett shrugged. “Fair point.” His competitive nature made him consider bumping up his own speed, but he decided against it. From the corner of his eye he watched Link, his feet pounding the belt and arms pumping at his sides. Sweat poured from his hairline, and he needed to reach up with his towel and mop it dry every half a minute.

Rhett cleared his throat. “You thought about where you might wanna go?”

Link’s voice was a gasp within his panting breath. “A little.”

“Any ideas you want to share?”

“Not yet.”

Rhett just pursed his lips and nodded. He pressed the speed button up a few notches, but not so far as to transition him into a jog. Link was in a full sprint by this point.

“You okay, man?”

Link only nodded. He mopped his forehead and nudged the speed higher, and Rhett sighed.

“Come on, Link. That’s too much. You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

Link ignored him and kept running. Rhett wanted to press him, but he knew it wouldn’t help. He looked away and tried to shake off his protectiveness.

“So, I was thinking. We could probably pull it off with just Stevie, Ben, and Morgan, if they’re all up to it. We’ll have the writers think up some ideas in advance for things we could do on location, though we’ll probably need to have our destination in place before we ask them to start brainstorming.” He chanced a sideways glance at Link, but he wasn’t budging on either location ideas or slowing his pace. Rhett let his attention wander to the other sections of the gym as a distraction. He saw his trainer working with her next client, a middle-aged woman who seemed not to be enjoying her burpees. Link’s trainer was at the front desk now, hitting on the receptionist.

“How long are you gonna be running for?” Rhett asked. “I’m about ready to be done.”

Link ignored him again, and Rhett rolled his eyes and huffed an exasperated sigh. He dropped his speed to zero, grabbed his water bottle, phone, and towel, and climbed off.

The locker room wasn’t overly crowded. Rhett wasn’t nearly as self-conscious about changing in public as he had been when he was younger, but he still appreciated a measure of privacy. The only other men in the room at present were a few elderly gentlemen who had just come in from a water aerobics class. Rhett pulled off his tank top and dropped his shorts and underwear before quickly wrapping a bath towel around his waist, then he padded to the showers.

Unlike in their specialized shower at home, Rhett had to stoop to wet his hair under the flow. He bent down until he could feel the warm water running down the back of his neck, combing his fingers across his sweaty scalp until his hair was saturated. Turning to the opposite wall, he let the water drench his back and massage the muscles across his shoulder blades. He closed his eyes, relaxing into the feeling. Then he let out a yelp of surprise when he felt fingers slide across the small of his back.

 _“Shhh!”_ Link pressed his fingertips to Rhett’s lips with a grin. Rhett looked past him to the aisle outside the shower stall before Link yanked the curtain shut behind him.

“Link,” he whispered, “there’re people out there!”

“No one saw me,” Link assured him.

“How many other guys did you have to peek at before you found me?”

Link stifled a laugh and shook his head. “I know your feet.”

Rhett chuckled as he turned his body toward his husband’s. “So,” he whispered, draping his arms over Link’s shoulders, “what’s the special occasion?”

“I got an idea,” Link murmured in a low voice.

“About the trip?”

“Not exactly.” He stretched upward and kissed Rhett. “Can we go paddleboarding tomorrow?”

“Really? You haven’t wanted to do that in ages.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a throat being loudly cleared outside their curtain. “This ain’t a Roman bath, fellas! Get a room!”

“We’ve got one, thanks!” Link called back, and Rhett’s cheeks blazed red. Link grinned up at him, then he shot up on his toes to kiss him again. The illicitness of the setting sent a shockwave of arousal through Rhett’s body, and he slipped his hands beneath Link’s ass and lifted him, spinning around to press Link’s back to the shower wall. Link gasped at the sudden show of eagerness, and he rolled his hips, pressing his erection against Rhett’s stomach and sliding his tongue into his mouth. When Rhett whimpered, Link broke the kiss and leaned in to whisper in Rhett’s ear.

“You gonna fuck me right here, big guy?”

Rhett whimpered again in frustration. “That guy’s probably already callin’ the cops.”

Link chuckled and bit Rhett’s earlobe before unwrapping his legs from his waist and dropping to his feet. He tugged Rhett’s beard to bring his face down for one last kiss, then he poked his head out of the curtain, determined the coast was clear, and slipped out. Rhett yanked the curtain shut behind him and stood, bewildered, beneath the flow.

***

Link was sure he could never live in a cold climate. He naturally felt cold too often as it was, despite having never lived anywhere that wasn’t predominantly warm. The hot sun was like oxygen to him, and he soaked it up from his place lying flat on his board, the rhythm of the ocean rocking him, reassuring him. It wasn’t the same motion as the Cape Fear River with its smooth, rippling current, but the Pacific waves were nothing to scoff at either.

He turned his head when he heard a distant yelp and a splash, and Rhett’s soaked head popped up out of the water.

“I fell!” he shouted, and Link chuckled.

“I can see that!”

“You done already?”

Link shrugged, then he sat up, his feet dangling into the water on either side of his board. He inclined his head toward the shore. “Come sit with me for a minute?”

Rhett nodded and grabbed his board. They paddled until they reached the place where they’d left their belongings in a heap, then they each spread out a towel and lay down.

Link turned his head to his left and watched the water drying on Rhett’s skin. His chest rose and fell as he caught his breath, sun sparkling off the salty beads that clung to the sparse red hairs along his sternum. He smiled and slid his fingers into Rhett’s palm, and Rhett closed his hand around them.

“Do you remember the first time we held hands?” Link asked.

Rhett chuckled. “Yes.”

“We were by the water then too.”

“You scared the crap outta me.”

Link laughed out loud. “I scared the crap outta myself. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Well, I’m glad you did it. It gave me the confidence to make the next move.”

“You were stone drunk when you made the next move.”

Rhett laughed again. He ran his thumb up and down across Link’s skin, and Link shivered at the touch. It felt good to be affected, to feel anything but complacent. They’d had good moments lately, and he didn’t want to ruin that. He knew he was taking a risk, but he couldn’t shake the belief that it would be worth it in the end. They couldn’t depend on these brief, glimmering moments.

“I know where I want to go.”

Rhett turned his head and opened one eye. “You do? Where?”

Link took a deep breath and answered in an exhale. “Home.”

Rhett’s brow furrowed and his hand stilled. Then he smiled. “Yeah, that could work! The Beasts would love it! We could show them our old spots; they’ll go nuts for it! I know we did some episodes back home earlier on, but there are enough new fans now that I think—”

“—No, Rhett. Not for the Beasts. Not for the show. For us.”

“Well, yeah, of course. That’s the beauty of the idea, Link! We get a trip, we get to connect, and we get to monetize it! It’s a win-win!”

Link let go of his hand and sat up, wrapping his arms around his knees. Rhett’s expression sobered, and he mirrored Link’s posture, sitting up beside him. He searched Link’s face as Link looked out over the water, his mouth twisting over the words he tried to find.

“I can’t keep sharing you with them. I need a break.”

Rhett swallowed. “From me?”

Link turned and looked at him. “No, Rhett. From everything else. I just feel like...like maybe it would help if we went back. We fell in love there, y’know? Maybe we could…”

When he trailed off, Rhett continued for him. “...fall in love again?”

Link swallowed hard and looked back to the ocean. “I feel like we’re just going through the motions. Maybe this would help.”

“Link, it’s not like we never go home. We’re there almost every Christmas, usually at least one other time per year too. What would make this any different?”

“That’s always so rushed. It’s a long weekend, maybe a little more, but we’re always rushing around between families and working on the side whenever we have a minute to ourselves.”

Rhett didn’t know what to say, so he kept quiet, waiting for Link to go on. Finally, after a long pause, Link spoke again, his eyes still on the water.

“I want to put the show on hiatus. I know it’s not scheduled, but I don’t care.”

Rhett stared at him. “For how long?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t care right now.”

“What do you mean you don’t care? This is our livelihood, man! You think the fans are gonna wait around forever?”

“The dedicated ones will wait.”

“That’s good enough for you?”

Link turned and leveled him with a look. “Yes. It is.”

Rhett sighed and looked out to the horizon. He had told himself they could solve this on their own. That meant he had to give some ground, to let Link win some of the battles. He didn't have to like it, but he had to give it a try. “Fine,” he said, his jaw tight. “We’ll go home.”


	5. Echoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the huge delay! I'm normally so much more reliable than this. But this fic is admittedly very personal and raw for me, and it's been hard to pull these emotions out and stay true to the necessary trajectory. Thanks for hanging in there with me.

Link was glad he couldn’t avoid sleep on an airplane. Rhett had barely spoken to him as they’d spent the last two days packing, and if the look on his face as they’d maneuvered through LAX had been in any indication, the actual travel itself wasn’t lightening his mood. Sleep had given Link an escape from Rhett’s sullenness. Anything was better than hours of awkward silence.

They picked up their rental car in Raleigh and headed for Link’s mom’s house. Sue was through-the-roof excited about the visit and had fixed up the guest room for them in anticipation. She was watching from her window when they pulled up and met them outside, arms outstretched.

“Baby!” she exclaimed as she wrapped Link in a hug. She moved to Rhett next and squeezed him just as tightly. “How was your flight?”

“It was fine, Mom. Glad it’s over though. How’s Lewis?”

Link’s stepfather appeared in the doorway on cue and stretched out his hand to each man for a firm handshake. He’d never been much of a hugger; or at least, not with them. Lewis had married Sue after Link had already grown and moved out, so they’d never been close. Additionally, he was old-fashioned and had never fully gotten comfortable with Link’s “lifestyle,” as he called it, but he wasn’t overtly offensive about it. He merely kept a comfortable emotional distance. Frankly, Link was okay with it. Between his own father, the step-father he’d had in his mom’s previous husband, Jimmy, and his father-in-law, Link had his fill of father figures.

“You boys hungry?” Sue asked, and they nodded and smiled as they followed the older couple into the house. Link immediately felt his muscles begin to relax when the smell of his mother’s house washed over him. There was the scent of her cooking, something warm and savory, and beneath it lingered the constant smell of home, of family and memory. He looked up at Rhett and saw the similar effect on his own body, the tension he’d been holding in his shoulders relaxing somewhat. The two of them had spent so much time in each other’s homes growing up that they felt as at-home there as with their own parents. Link knew that this had added one more element of strangeness for their families when they made the announcement long ago that they were in love. They had seemed to the world like brothers, and it was a jarring reality to see that relationship transform into lovers. It had been strange enough for them, but they had the benefit of experiencing that new love for themselves, allowing the transition to feel as natural as breathing.

Link watched Rhett’s eyes wander his childhood home and knew what he was seeing; it was the same thing Link saw. Long, skinny legs waving behind them as they lay on their bellies watching movies in the dark, fingers brushing one another’s in the popcorn bowl. The stampede of feet tearing through the back door after school, book bags dropped in a heap before they tore back outside and disappeared into the yard. Sue scolding them gently over dinner as they tried to make each other laugh with mouthfuls of chewed food displayed on their tongues. It was a lifetime ago, but in this place it felt so close, the echoes of their childhood still hanging in the air.

Rhett glanced back over his shoulder at his husband. The smile that passed between them was small and shy. Then Rhett turned away and followed Sue and Lewis into the kitchen.

***

Not much was on the docket after dinner. After a long day of traveling, all they felt compelled to do was sit and chat over some pie and decaf coffee. Lewis cleared the table and worked to clean up from the meal to free Sue to catch up with her boys.

“Y’all never really said how long you planned to stay. You’re more than welcome to take your time though. We love havin’ you boys, don’t we, honey?” she called over her shoulder.

“Yes, dear,” Lewis muttered back.

Rhett and Link passed an uncertain, awkward look between them, and Sue tensed at the sight, her posture stiffening.

“We’re not real sure yet, Mom. We don’t wanna impose though. We can’t stay away forever but...we just need a little time to refresh, y’know?”

Sue placed a palm over Link’s folded hands where they lay on the tablecloth. “You know you’re never an imposition, sweetheart. You stay as long as you want. Both of you.” She reached her other hand out to squeeze Rhett’s fingers, and he smiled warmly.

Lewis returned to the table to clear their pie plates and coffee cups. After setting them on the counter, he came back and addressed the group.

“I think I’ll be off to bed. Good to have you boys. Make yourselves at home.” He gave Sue a peck on the cheek, then he began his slow ascent up the stairs. Once they’d watched him go, Rhett leaned back and stretched his arms out long, his jaw creaking in a yawn.

“I suppose I’ll head up too. Been a long day. Thank you for dinner, Mama Sue.” He pressed himself to a stand and leaned down to give Link a quick kiss goodnight.

“Night, babe,” Link murmured. “I’ll be up in a bit.”

“Take your time. G’night, Mama.”

Sue took and squeezed his hand once more before turning back to Link. As Rhett’s footsteps on the stairs and down the hallway above echoed through the house, Sue crossed her arms on the table and dipped her head, narrowing her eyes in scrutiny at her son.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Her voice was low and hushed.

Link crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. He met her gaze and squinted back, challenging her. If she was gonna read his thoughts, he’d let her try and finish the job herself. For long moments they played chicken, both staring each other down in silence. Then Link broke first, and his face widened into a grin. He shook his head and chuckled.

“You always do that, Mom.”

“Do what?”

“Read me. I can’t hide anything.”

She shrugged. “That’s what mothers are for. So what’s goin’ on? What’re you two scrappin’ about?”

“It’s not…” Link sighed. “That’s not really it. It’s not that we’re fighting. Not exactly.”

“So what is it?”

“It’s just...things change, y’know? We’re not the same people we were when we lived here. We’re not those crazy-in-love kids anymore.”

Sue nodded and leaned back, mirroring his posture. He waited for her reply, but none came. Link sighed again, and when he spoke, his voice was barely more than a whisper.

“All he cares about is work. And because it’s our thing, our baby, it’s like our relationship has been swallowed up by it. Like as long as we’re working well together, our marriage must be just fine. If _‘Rhett & Link’ _ are okay, then we are too.”

“So he doesn’t know you’re upset?”

“No, he knows. I just don’t think he knows what to do about it.”

“What _should_ he do about it?”

Link shrugged. “I don’t know, Mom.”

”Is there something you need from him?”

“He’s trying, but nothing clicks. I just feel dead inside.”

When Link’s voice cracked, he dropped his eyes to his lap. Sue stood and moved to the seat Rhett had vacated beside him and took his hand in hers. The pain on her face made the tears well up in his eyes, and he slid his free hand beneath his glasses to shield them from view. She waited patiently while he composed himself, and when he was ready, he dropped his hand again.

“It was supposed to be the dream, Mom. When you find your soulmate, everything makes more sense when they’re a part of it. We grew up together, we fell in love, we got married, we started a business… We’re together practically every waking minute. And every sleeping minute for that matter. It’s not like I even mind being around him all the time either. He’s comfortable, and I feel safe with him. It’s not like I feel smothered. I just feel…”

She squeezed his hand when he trailed off, and he took a deep breath before continuing.

“I feel like I’ve lost myself along the way. Don’t get me wrong, Mom; I don’t regret marrying him. But I can’t help but wonder if it would have been easier if we’d married other people but stayed best friends. At least that way we would have had some individuality. I might have a better sense of who I am as just Link. Just plain Link.”

“Does it help you to know that you’re still just Link to me?” Sue whispered. “I love Rhett; I always have. And I want you two to work it out. But I don’t see you as a projection of him. I knew you before.”

Link smiled, and the action forced a stray tear down his cheek. Sue wiped it away with her thumb. He sighed, set his glasses on the table, and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyelids.

“Is there anything I can do to help you, baby?” Sue asked.

Link replaced his glasses and smiled sadly at her. “You’re already doin’ it, Mom.”

***

It took Rhett a moment to figure out where he was when he woke up in the dim early-morning. He’d been dreaming that he still lived at home. He and Link had been in his old bedroom, no more than ten years old, writing their Book of Mythicality. The light from the window was coming from the wrong direction, and he rubbed his eyes, taking in the grey shapes in the room that slowly formed in his brain. This was Link’s bedroom, not his; he must have stayed over night. Then life and memory caught up with him, and he reached an arm out to find the familiar body beside him, not the small, skinny body of his best friend but the longer, stronger frame of his husband. Link’s mouth lay slackened against his pillow, his face peppered in the morning’s grey-black stubble. It was Link’s bedroom, but it wasn’t their home.

Once they’d had the money to afford it, they’d bought Sue a larger bed to replace Link’s rickety old twin, giving them a place to comfortably sleep when they came for a visit. It was simply a guest room now, Link’s old youthful decor long-since stripped and replaced with welcoming, neutral furnishings. But the ghosts of their history still lived in this room, secrets told and laughter shared.

Rhett picked up his phone from the nightstand and opened his email app, perusing what had come in on the work front since they’d left. Stevie had assured him that they had everything under control and they could take their vacation without worry. They and the team had spent a couple weeks rearranging the schedule to accommodate the break. Gratefully, Link had been fine with working overtime banking episodes to give them a buffer. There were plenty of low-production ideas simple enough that they could bang out several in an afternoon, and they’d made an announcement that a hiatus would be imminent despite the unusual timing. It was autumn, and their summer break had only recently ended. Link insisted that they needn’t be dishonest with the beasts nor did they need to be specific, so they’d shared that they simply needed to take some time for the two of them, to recharge and refresh. They hadn’t spelled out their intended return but assured the fans that they would be back.

Rhett couldn’t deny that he was disappointed Link hadn’t been willing to document their time at home. There was no reason for it to detract from their mission to reconnect—how much time would a few quick vlogs take? So in lieu of on-camera work, he did what he could to catch up on emails in the short time he expected it would be before Link awoke. There were a few correspondences there, but Stevie was true to her word: they were handling it. He just couldn’t shake the worry that too much time away, especially given the unplanned nature of the break, would chase away fans who counted on their dependability. He feared people would turn to others for their daily routine, and they would be replaced.

The next time Rhett turned to look at Link, he found bleary blue eyes staring back. Rhett smiled, and Link smiled back before a yawn erupted from his face. Rhett set his phone back on the nightstand and curled back onto his side facing Link, their noses inches apart.

“Morning,” Rhett murmured.

“Hi,” Link replied with a sleepy smile.

“I like this bed.”

“You don’t want to sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag for old time’s sake?”

“Not so much. Whaddya wanna do today?”

Link sighed. “We should probably make the rounds. Visit everyone.”

“Ugh.”

“I know.”

Rhett chuckled and rolled onto his back, stretching his limbs long. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a rock.”

“Figures.”

Link picked his glasses off the nightstand, unfolded them, and slid them on. He climbed out of bed and pressed his hands to his lower back, leaning back into the stretch before striding across the room to his suitcase. Rhett watched his movements from his place in bed, admiring the hug of Link’s boxer briefs as he bent down to rifle through his clothes. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he closed it. Link pulled clean clothes from the suitcase and draped them over his arm, then he grabbed the small bag containing their shared toiletries. He straightened and turned toward the bed.

“I’m gonna hop in the shower.”

Rhett nodded. “Don’t use all the hot water.”

Link frowned, turned, and left the room.

***

The day was a whirlwind of making nice with family. They loved their respective families and didn’t mind seeing them, particularly since the visits were few and far between. But they felt the need to put on airs, to be enthusiastic about life when they both knew life wasn’t what it was supposed to be. They focused on business, the success of their various projects and things that were up and coming. The familiarity of both the comfortable conversation topics and the presence of people who had always been there almost made life feel normal again. Almost.

The entire McLaughlin family gathered for the mid-day meal at Rhett’s brother Cole’s house in Cary, NC, just outside of Raleigh. In her eagerness to be near her new grandbaby, Rhett’s mom had moved to Raleigh after Cole and his wife had had their first child, while Rhett’s father, Jim, had stayed in Buies Creek due to his teaching job at the university. Rhett’s coming out as bisexual and subsequently beginning his relationship with Link had rocked the family, but despite the fact that both Rhett’s parents had initially struggled with the news in their own ways, it had proven to be beneficial for them in the long run. They had still gotten divorced, but the backlash in the community toward the boys had caused Jim and Diane to create a united front. They were protective of their boy. The bigotry they had chosen to stand against for Rhett’s sake had helped them to forge a friendship that allowed them to maintain an amicability, one they may have otherwise lacked if their preoccupation had instead been with the disintegration of their own marriage.

The McLaughlins had always been Link’s second family. Being with them felt more like home than he had felt at his dad’s house, and despite the acclimation it took for them to adapt to Rhett’s and his relationship, it helped that he was Link. He was already their son, their brother. Once they got used to the idea, used to seeing them hold hands and kiss, it started to feel like a new normal.

It was for this reason that Link had no patience for the distance he felt from the family that had adopted him as their own when he was only six years old. He knew the distance was purely on his end, and in that way it was unique. The only other time he’d felt distance from them had been when he and Rhett had first announced their relationship, and that time it had been on their end. He was grateful it had been temporary. He only hoped the same would hold true of the distance he felt now, but as he watched Rhett laugh with his family, he felt his unease growing. The further he felt from Rhett, the further he felt from all of them. Did they sense it too? Was it purely in his mind, or did they sense the wall that had grown between him and their son?

He hasn’t realized how quiet he’d been until he caught Jim looking at him across the table. Link felt his cheeks flush as he looked away, but he felt his father-in-law’s gaze remain on him. Finally Link pushed away from his seat at the table and moved to the kitchen, pulling open the refrigerator in search of a drink. He’d been staring blankly into the fridge for too long when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“You’re gonna run up Cole’s electric bill if you leave that door open any longer.”

Link chuckled self-deprecatingly as he swung the door shut, still empty-handed. Then he remembered what he’d been there for and pulled it open again, just long enough to grab a Coke and close the door. Without turning to look at Jim, he cracked open the can and took a swig, leaning back into the kitchen island behind him. The older man’s stoic presence was loud, and Link’s refusal to look at him didn’t quiet the effect.

“You alright, son?”

Link swallowed the lump that the endearment raised in his throat. He was momentarily brought back to the confrontation the two of them had had in Jim and Diane’s old backyard on the day Rhett had come out to his parents. That day, Link had been sure of himself, unwavering in his determination to stand up for Rhett, for the love they shared, no matter what the cost. Now he felt small and uncertain. Jim’s present compassion was somehow far more intimidating than his belligerence had once been.

Link studied the rim of his soda can and nodded. His father-in-law’s hand still rested on his shoulder, and he squeezed.

“I’ve known you over thirty years,” Jim said, his voice low enough that it wouldn’t carry to the dining room where the rest of the family laughed, “and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this quiet.”

Link swallowed again, irritated at the way his eyes burned. He forced himself to meet Jim’s gaze, and he shrugged. Jim smiled sadly and nodded.

“You want me to talk to him?”

Link looked down again. “I don’t know what I’d want you to say.”

“Marriage isn’t easy. I’ve been there.”

“There isn’t really anything to say. It’s not like there’s…”

Jim dropped his hand and leaned back against the refrigerator door, crossing his arms as he faced Link. He waited for his son-in-law to continue in his own time. Finally Link sighed and took another swig of his drink before speaking.

“We just gotta get through it.”

“Link. Can I say something?”

Link looked up and hesitantly met his eyes.

“It won’t get better by itself. If nothing changes, then nothing changes.”

“You know,” Link said with a chuckle, “twenty years ago no one could have convinced me that you would be pulling for us when the going got tough. I would have sworn you’d have been first in line to talk him into leaving me and finding a nice girl instead.”

Jim breathed a laugh through his nose and shook his head. “I wouldn’t have believed it either. But I was wrong about you two. I didn’t think you could make him happy. But you do.”

“Maybe I used to.”

“Being happy isn’t about butterflies and roses all the time. You know that by now.”

Link scoffed. “I know that. But then what is it? If I supposedly make him happy but we’re hardly ever actually happy together, then what is ‘happy’ supposed to look like?”

Jim’s mouth tightened as they held each other’s gaze. Diane’s laugh rang out through the air and reached them, and Jim shook his head, chuckling darkly. He angled his head in the direction the sound had come from.

“I used to make her happy too. And now, in our own way, we have some of that back. We’re better off than a lot of divorced couples. We can be around each other, y’know? I think we’re probably a lot happier now than we were when we were actually married.”

Link nodded, but he felt a tightness in his jaw. Jim sighed and reached up to rub the back of his neck with his palm.

“I, uh...don’t suppose that’s very helpful.”

“No, it is,” Link lied. He forced a smile. “Thanks.”

Jim smiled sadly and patted Link’s shoulder as he straightened to leave. “Hang in there, son. Talk to him. He loves you.”

Link nodded. When Jim returned to his family, Link stayed in the kitchen, leaning against the island and nursing his Coke. He could feel a sense of desperation bubbling up inside of him, and he stepped to the doorway and watched Rhett as he laughed over the table with the others.

He wasn’t ready to accept that they would be happier apart. They’d always been together, and they had been so happy once. This entire landscape was painted with the echoes of it.

He wasn’t going to be able to reclaim it by wallowing in the ways their relationship was lacking. Somewhere out there was the spark that had ignited them all those years ago. And he owed it to Rhett to find it, for both their sakes.


	6. Home

Rhett smiled, a tight-lipped grin that hid his teeth and crinkled his eyes. He wiped his sweating palms on his jeans and ran his fingers through his wavy hair. For all the time he’d spent in front of a camera, this felt so different. He was used to an audience, a proper lens, a plan… But then, he had a plan, didn’t he?

“Mythical Beasts,” he began, “I’m going to let you in on a little secret.”

***

Link had his fingers twisted into his shoelaces as he called over his shoulder.

“Dad?”

Charles’s voice hollered back from the kitchen. “Yeah?”

“D’ya think Uncle Ross would care if I borrowed the truck for the day?”

He didn’t hear his father answer, and when his laces were tied, Link looked up toward the open kitchen doorway. His dad was leaning against the door jamb, coffee mug in hand.

“Yer old pickup?”

Link nodded. “Thought it would be nice to drive the old girl around a little.”

Charles shrugged. “I can’t imagine he’d mind, long as he ain’t usin’ it today. You wanna call him up?”

Link pushed up on his legs and straightened with a groan. “Nah. We’ll stop and see if he’s home.”

“Whatchu boys got planned for today? Y’all want anything special for dinner?”

Link shook his head. “We’re good. We’re just gonna explore a little.”

“You tellin’ me there’s a corner of this town y’all ain’t discovered yet?” Charles chuckled.

Link smiled back and patted his father on the shoulder. “Not likely. Thanks for breakfast, Dad.”

Rhett appeared behind Charles in the kitchen and carefully nudged past him to Link’s side, but not before leaving his own slap on the older man’s shoulder blade. Charles shook his head and breathed out a chuckle as he turned back into the kitchen.

Rhett and Link fell into step with each other as they strode through the living room and out the door. There was a thrum of anticipation hanging in the silence between them, something hovering in the intersection of excitement and dread. Link climbed into the driver’s seat of their rental car and started the engine before Rhett had folded himself into the passenger side.

His uncle didn’t live far away, and within minutes they were pulling off a gravel road onto a patch of brown grass beside Link’s old pick-up truck. Link hopped out of the car and stepped to the front door of the small ranch-style house while Rhett hung back, leaning against the passenger door with his fists shoved into his pockets.

Link rang the doorbell, and when after a minute no one had answered, he tried knocking. Still nothing. He stepped down from the front stoop and strolled to the truck’s driver’s-side window, peering inside before pulling the door open. The keys were hanging in the ignition, and Link’s hand moved with the force of muscle memory to turn the key and start the engine. Rhett pulled open the passenger side door with a heavy creak and smirked at his husband.

“Forgiveness over permission?”

Link shrugged. “He won’t care. Besides, it’s still kinda mine. I never exactly gave it away or sold it. It just sorta...moved on without me.”

Rhett pursed his lips and conceded the point. He settled down onto the worn bench seat, chuckling to himself with the knowledge that he himself had probably done most of the work of wearing this side of the seat down. He’d spent countless hours in this spot as Link cruised all over Harnett County and beyond. Rhett turned his head and watched Link as he slung his arm over the back of Rhett’s headrest, backing out carefully before pulling out onto the gravel road.

They rolled down the windows immediately and let in the cool autumn air, the breeze still fresh with the morning. The chill hadn’t truly reached this part of the country yet, but in the early hour there was a foretaste. Link inhaled deeply, his face angled toward the open window to get the full effect. He melted into the driver’s seat like a man finally at home, the contours shaped to him, his grip on the wheel a second nature.

 

Rhett didn’t question it when Link pulled into the parking lot of Buies Creek Elementary. It felt natural that their journey begin here, where they began. The playground was empty on a Sunday morning, swings swaying hauntingly on their chains. Link climbed from the driver’s seat and shoved his hands into his pockets as he strolled to the too-small equipment and began to climb. The steep steps carried Link to the top of a winding, multicolored tube slide, and he gripped the top of the slide’s entrance as he snaked his legs inside. He had to dig the heels of his shoes into the plastic to drag his body around the tight turns.

Rhett was waiting at the bottom of the slide when Link appeared, his hair lifting at the edges from the slide’s residual static.

“Having fun?”

“Not quite as much as I remember.”

“This equipment wasn’t here when we were,” Rhett pointed out.

Link looked around the playground as he stood to his feet. He pointed out toward a series of metallic climbing structures, various sizes and shapes of monkey bar sets.

“Those were.”

Rhett chuckled and let Link lead him across the wood chips as Link strode to a set of high monkey bars. He watched his husband try to hold his legs in the air as he swung across the bars.

“You’re too tall for that, man.”

Link’s voice was pinched and forced with the effort, his face going red. “I can do it.”

“You’re not gonna bait me into following you.”

Link reached the end and dropped his legs with an exhausted huff. He kept his hands loosely clasped around the final bar.

“I’m not tryin’ to.”

When Link released his hands from the bar, he brushed them together, rubbing the redness and faint metal residue from his palms. He pointed at the swingset.

“Those were here too. C’mon.”

They walked side-by-side to the swings. The frame looked like the same one they remembered, but the swings themselves must have been replaced in the decades since their time here. Link settled into one of the seats and pushed back as far as his toes would reach, then he released and began to pump with his legs. Rhett chuckled through his nose and did the same.

“Do you remember the second day of school?” Rhett asked loudly enough for Link to hear over the wind rushing past their ears.

Link nodded, his hair in his face. “I wanted to swing with you, but Brenda Reed was on the other swing. I was waiting for her to move, but you got up and offered me your swing.”

“We went and climbed on the jungle gym instead.”

“You asked if you could sleep over. I was so excited.”

Rhett laughed. “We ate pudding at your house. And we laughed a lot. It was the best.”

“Should we go eat pudding at my mom’s house again? For old time’s sake?”

“Can’t. Dairy.”

“Right.”

Rhett dragged his feet into the chips beneath him. “This swing is gonna tweak my back.”

Link skidded to a stop beside him. “That’s fine; I was getting motion sick anyway.”

“I guess playgrounds aren’t made for men our age.”

Link chuckled but otherwise ignored Rhett’s blanket statement. He looked around at the other equipment again.

“Do you remember when I would climb to the top of the jungle gym and stand on it?”

“You just wanted to be taller than me for once.”

Link rolled his eyes. “I did not. You always think everything is about you.”

Rhett chuckled as Link slipped off the swing and strode to the tallest jungle gym. Rhett shook his head as he watched him climb. “You’re gonna fall and break your neck.”

“No way. I’m stronger now, and I never fell then.”

“You’re just as clumsy as you always were.”

“Big talk for a man on the ground.”

“I’m not following you up there either.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

Link dragged himself up in a few short movements, and when he’d reached the top bars, he swung his legs over the top and precariously scooted his butt to the edge of one bar. When he’d raised his hips, he paused for a moment, realizing he couldn’t push himself to a stand in this position without compromising his balance. He could feel Rhett’s tension from ten feet away, but he chose not to look at him as he carefully reversed himself until he was still on all fours but facing downward, his back to the sky. Then he grounded his feet into the bars beneath them and pressed off on his hands, righting himself slowly until he was standing fully upright.

Link grinned to himself as he looked carefully around the playground from this vantage. He remembered this view, though it all looked smaller now. He realized he had a little bit more height on the view than he’d had in the past, but that wasn’t the only reason it all felt so small.

For a moment he felt his equilibrium falter, and Link’s arms shot out from his sides to restore his balance. Rhett made a choked sound from below.

“You got it? You alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Slowly he lowered himself, bending at the knees and maintaining an upright position in his core until his hands could reach the bars again. Once he was secure, he made his way down. When he was finally at Rhett’s side and looking up at him instead of down, he gave him a half-smile.

“I should probably get the old girl back to Uncle Ross.”

Rhett shrugged. “Lead on.”

***

Link had left the keys in the truck but had climbed back up the front steps of his uncle’s house when he’d seen an additional vehicle in the driveway that hadn’t been there previously. Rhett climbed into the driver’s seat of the rental car and cast a sideways glance at Link before pulling out his phone. He swung the car door shut before opening up his camera app. He spoke quietly, his eyes continuing to dart back to Link’s place on the front porch.

“I want to explain something to you, Mythical Beasts. Feelings are fleeting. They’re not dependable, because they change every day, every minute sometimes. If we based our life choices on our feelings...I mean, what kind of chaos would that be? Is that really the life you want? I can tell you this much: it’s not the life I want. I made a commitment, a vow. We’re old married guys, and things change. We’re human. But I love Link. I’ve always loved him. I think part of me loved him before I even met him, because I always felt that missing part of myself, the part he was meant to fill. But people, love is a choice before it’s a feeling. You gotta choose—”

_“Rhett!”_

Rhett jumped and dropped his phone into his lap. He rolled down the window and poked his head out.

“Uncle Ross wants to say hi.” Link gestured for him to come on up, and Rhett lifted his phone once more and spoke quietly into the screen.

“To be continued.”

***

Link closed his eyes against the bright sun when it peeked from behind a cloud. He shivered as a breath of wind blew across the exposed skin of his chest and belly, but he was acclimating to the temperature of the water which still held some of the warmth of the recent summer months. There was a slight rustle in the leaves overhead, the dry sound betraying the beginnings of autumn. He breathed in deep, holding the air in his lungs till it burned.

_Home. This is home._

The sound of the contented sigh beside him was familiar to Link in a way that he immediately recognized as dissonant in this place. Years ago, back when this practice was routine for them, that sound was a little higher, a lot fresher, but it was the familiar he knew then. Rhett was always Rhett, but he’d been so many versions of himself. Link knew he himself was no different.

His mind drifted to what lay waiting for them back in Los Angeles. Link had avoided all social media since they’d announced their hiatus, and it was a struggle. He was used to hovering over the reactions of their fans, the two of them laying out comments like clues on a treasure map. It was their guide to what would offer the best of both worlds: forward motion without leaving their followers behind. They cared what the Beasts thought, but they’d always trusted themselves, their bond being the most dependable beacon of all.

Rhett and Link, the dream team. Since day one, that’s what it had always been. He’d needed Rhett so badly when the boy had strolled into his world, and Link had held onto him for dear life. Rhett had been his comfort, his family, his love, his home. Link had let himself be drawn into his orbit, pulled inexorably by Rhett’s gravity.

Rhett’s gruff baritone floated over the water and into the breeze as he began to idly hum, something slow and nondescript, and Link focused on it, letting it roll over and around him like the current of the Cape Fear River.

_This is home. The river and the air and the sound of Rhett’s voice._

_Rhett._

It was always Rhett. He was good and kind, wild and alluring. Link had happily allowed Rhett’s presence to swallow him whole. He was big, in stature and in presence, the sun to Link’s moon. Link had told him long ago that he was happy to reflect Rhett’s light, even if it meant people would forget sometimes that the light wasn’t Link’s own. Sometimes he almost forgot himself. Even now he felt himself pulled by Rhett’s magnetic force as they floated in the quiet of the water, as if Link’s body, of its own volition, knew it was made to join with the man beside him. But in spite of the pull that was still there despite everything, Link felt resentment building, tiny microfissures threatening to tear him apart from surface to core.

Rhett’s hand found his beneath the water, and it took everything in Link not to recoil.

_This is Rhett. My Rhett._

He fought to calm his breathing and relax.

_Home. Rhett._

How was he supposed to sit at that desk and look the world in the eye when it all felt so wrong?

“What’s wrong?”

Rhett’s voice cut through the mounting panic in Link’s chest, and he turned his head and met his husband’s eye. He wondered for a moment if Rhett had read his thoughts. Link righted himself in the water, and Rhett mirrored his posture, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. Link swallowed hard.

“Let’s go back to shore. I’m cold.”

Rhett nodded and turned back upstream, paddling ahead against the mild current. As they swam, Link tried to anchor himself in the scenery. But the trees were bigger than he remembered, the banks misshapen, shaved away by time.

They reached their edge of the river and clambered ashore. Their clothes had been discarded near the speaking rocks, and they dragged the dry fabric over clinging wet limbs. Link shivered, the air chilling his skin, and then Rhett called his name quietly. He turned to see Rhett gesturing toward the lower rock. Link’s eyes dropped to the spot, then back to Rhett’s face.

“Please,” Rhett said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I need to say something.”

 

Rhett watched as Link moved slowly to the listening rock. His limbs hung loose and tired, but he went, looking up expectantly when he was seated. Rhett’s eyes went to the high rock, but before sitting he held up a finger and moved to the side. He opened his phone’s camera, starting a video and propping the phone up against a stone.

“What’s that for?” Link asked, and Rhett waved him off.

“Just let me talk. I’ll explain it.”

Link nodded and watched Rhett move finally to the speaking rock, and when Rhett was seated, he leaned his elbows into his knees and clasped his hands in front of him.

“Link...listen. I know you’re unhappy. And I know I’ve contributed a lot to that unhappiness. But I need you to know that I still love you. I still want to be with you. You’re the one I chose, and I’ve never regretted that decision. I’ve never wanted to be with anyone but you, and I’ve never been anything but grateful that you wanted to be with me too. I don’t take that for granted, man. I know it may seem like I do, but I’m so grateful. You’re the love of my life.”

Rhett paused to study Link’s face. It showed a strange mixture of slack resignation and a teeming coil of tension beneath the surface. He pressed on.

“I understand now why it was so important for us to come back to the beginning. I feel it here too. This was our place, these rocks and this river and this town. It was right here, on this spot, that I committed myself to you. I told you I was all in, no matter what. And it’s still true, Link. I made a commitment to you, for better or for worse. But I haven’t been true to it. I’ve let you feel alone and lost, and I should have been there for you. You needed me, and I let you down.”

Link’s eyes filled with tears, but he didn’t move except to let his eyelids fall closed, chasing beads of wetness down his cheeks. With a halting breath he opened his eyes again and waited for Rhett to continue. Rhett stood and moved toward him, crouching down in front of his husband.

“I know you wanted work left out of this, and I respect that, but I thought you might make an exception just this once. The Mythical Beasts never got to see any of the moments that brought us together. The day we met, the day we got together, the day we got engaged, the day we got married, neither the real one nor the legal one. But I wanted them to see this.” He took Link’s hand in his and lowered one knee to the rocky ground. “I want to marry you again. I’m committed to you, and I don’t ever want to take you for granted again. I want us to renew our vows and start over. A fresh start. I love you, Link. Will you marry me?”

Link blinked at him. The familiar face devoid of expression made a rush of terror thrum through Rhett’s veins. Then Link turned his head and looked at the phone propped against a nearby rock.

“You wanted to monetize this?” he whispered.

Rhett’s eyes went wide. “No! No, Link, it’s not like that at all. I just...I wanted to share this with them. They’ve seen us through so much, and I—“

“I asked you not to do that, Rhett.”

Rhett huffed and dropped his hand. “I...I thought it would be romantic. I’m sorry. I thought you’d be okay with it. I just thought that with this one thing—“

“—you would put the greater good of the Rhett and Link brand above what’s best for me.”

Rhett blinked in shock and shook his head. “Link, that’s not…” He took Link’s hand again, his eyes pleading. “I love you, baby, please. I’m sorry if I messed up. I’ll delete the video. I just want us to be happy.”

“That’s just it, Rhett.” Link pulled his hand from Rhett’s grasp and into his lap. He looked down, his eyes locked on his fingers. “It’s always about us.”

Rhett sank down to sit on the ground beneath him, determined to give Link space to talk.

“We’re good together,” Link went on, his voice barely audible. “We always have been. When you came into my life, I was alone, and I needed you. And maybe I still do; I don’t know. But I’m...I'm not a lonely little kid anymore.”

Rhett’s brow furrowed. “I know that, man.”

“I’m not saying you don’t. I’m just saying…”

Link trailed off, but Rhett could feel the impact of his words as they formed in Link’s mind. “What _are_ you saying?”

“It’s just...you’ve always been there. You’ve done exactly what you were supposed to do. You were there for me, you’ve stood by me, you’ve made a home and a life with me. You didn’t do anything wrong, Rhett. I mean, you’re not perfect, but…” He sighed and looked up to meet Rhett’s eyes. “I told you I felt lost. And I think what it was was that I was lost inside of you. I don’t know who I am apart from you... And I need to.”

Rhett’s heart was hammering in his chest as he tried to make sense of Link’s words. He swallowed hard, and his words came out in a choked whisper. “So what do you need?”

Link’s eyes dropped again to the fingers twisting in his lap. “I need you to go home. Alone.”


	7. A Parody of Something Real

Rhett didn’t fit properly on the loveseat in the corner of Stevie’s office, but that wasn’t stopping him from curling into it without a word of acknowledgement to the woman behind the desk. She stopped typing and watched him for a moment, waiting in vain for him to speak first, before she shut her laptop with a sigh.

“Hey, Rhett.” She paused, but she knew he wouldn’t speak. “You wanna talk about it?”

They’d been friends for too long for her to take offense at his silence. By now she could read the words intended in his body language, the curve of his back and the direction he faced, away from her but not entirely shutting her out. There was a window there, an expression of aloneness with a crack in the armor meant for her to breach. She stood and moved to the edge of the sofa, crouching down to his level, and laid a gentle hand on his upper arm.

“Have you heard from him yet?”

His head moved minutely in a weak shake.

“I fucked up, Stevie.”

She swallowed thickly and laid her forehead on his shoulder.

“I know he loves you.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not gonna lose him.”

“Rhett…” she sighed. She lifted her head and pulled lightly on his arm, urging him to turn and face her. He begrudgingly rolled to lie on his back, but he didn’t look her in the eye.

“How am I going to explain this to them?”

Stevie’s eyebrow lifted. “To whom exactly? The crew?”

“Well, them. And everyone else. The world. Or at least the part of it that cares about what we do around here.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to anybody. You don’t owe them an explanation.”

“But how long do I wait?” He turned his head and met her eye for the first time since he’d returned from North Carolina. “What if he’s gone for weeks? Or months? Or forever? Do I just keep pretending it’s a hiatus and everything’s fine?”

Stevie blew the hair out of her face and sat back on her haunches. “You wanna go get wasted?”

“Stevie, it’s 10:00 in the morning.”

“So? You got a problem with a little day drinking?”

Rhett sighed. “I guess I can’t argue with that logic.”

Stevie couldn’t stop the giggle that burst from her throat. She glanced at Rhett’s eyes, scared she’d offended him with her irreverence in the weight of the moment. But he grinned back, and the crinkles around his eyes almost disguised the dark, haunted look. She smiled sadly and rose, offering him a hand to help him to his feet. He took it, though he didn’t put any more of his weight on her tiny frame than was necessary.

“Come on,” she said as she waved him toward the doorway. “I could probably scrounge up a drink at home that’s acceptable for mornings. I might have some bloody mary mix in the fridge.”

“Honestly, Stevie, I’m not picky.”

She nodded, looking back at him as she swung her long, blond hair out of her face. She wrapped an arm around his waist and squeezed into his side, and he returned the hug gratefully before following her to her car.

***

Rhett hovered by the mantle over Stevie’s decorative fireplace. He poked his toe at an assortment of candles in the space where the fire would normally be, then he let his eyes wander to the framed pictures at his chest’s height. He picked one up featuring Stevie and her girlfriend, Cassie, their arms draped over each other’s shoulders. They both squinted and smiled at the camera in a cool, smouldering grin, and Rhett couldn’t help but grin back.

“Did you really want to drink?” Stevie’s voice called from the kitchen. “Or did you want some tea or something instead?”

Rhett set the picture back on the mantle and called back. “Were you not serious?”

She appeared in the doorway. “Well, I was. But I want you to be comfortable. Do you want your senses comforted or numbed?”

“I kind of had my heart set on numb.”

Stevie winked and spun back toward the kitchen. “Numb it is!”

Rhett moved to the long, off-white couch and curled into the edge, facing the other end and leaning sideways into the back. When Stevie reappeared again, she had a tumbler in hand with a small amount of liquid swirling in the bottom, and when she handed it to him, he sniffed it.

“Bourbon?”

“I didn’t have any bloody mary mix.”

He shrugged and took a sip. The alcohol burned the back of his throat pleasantly, clearing his sinuses and thrumming immediately into his bloodstream. He took a deep breath, savoring the sensation, before taking another small sip.

“I fucked up.”

“You mentioned that,” Stevie said quietly. “How?”

“You want a list?”

She gave him a sardonic look, and he rolled his eyes.

“It’s simple, Stevie. I drove him away. I smothered him to death. I made him feel like he only exists in conjunction with me, with us, but what does it say about me that that’s…”

She squinted her eyes and cocked her head. “That’s what?”

Rhett sighed. “The one thing he needed was the thing I’m the most scared of. He needed to know who he is apart from me, and that’s what terrifies me. Having to find out who I am without him.”

Stevie took a sip from her own glass and leaned back against the opposite arm rest, her legs folded up beneath her. “You do know you exist as your own person, right?”

“But do I?”

“Of course you do! Just because you two have been attached at the hip for thirty-five years doesn’t mean you ceased to be individuals. Have you _met_ the two of you? Because I have. You are most definitely not the same person.”

Rhett sniffed derisively and took a larger swig of the bourbon. “Well, try telling him that. He seems to think I swallowed him whole.”

“Well, that’s possible. But if so, it went both ways.”

Rhett sniffed again and took another drink. “What does it say about _him_ ,” he went on, almost to himself, “that he’s suddenly so unhappy with the life he chose?”

She sighed. “I know you’re mad, but that’s not really fair, is it?”

“Why not? What did I say that was inaccurate?”

“Is that how Link would describe it?”

“We can’t know that since he’s not _here_ , can we, Stevie? I’m here alone, just me, trying to sort out the pieces on my own. And I didn’t ask for this, but this is where we are.”

Stevie sighed again and took another small sip. Then she raised an eyebrow at him.

“Who is just plain old Rhett McLaughlin?” she prompted.

Rhett shook his head before tipping it back, emptying his glass. He got up from the couch and headed for the kitchen, returning a minute later with his tumbler half-full again.

“I’m not letting you out of answering my question,” Stevie said as he settled back into his spot on the couch.

He shook his head again. “I don’t like the question.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not all that interested in plain old Rhett McLaughlin! I _like_ being part of Link! I _like_ being ‘us’ instead of just ‘me’! And it pisses me off that he doesn’t!”

Stevie opened her mouth to speak, but then thought better of it. She set her glass on the end table behind her, then she leaned in, pressing her elbow into her thigh and her chin into her palm.

“I’m not taking it back,” he said. “I’ve always been more devoted to our relationship than he was.”

Stevie’s eyes narrowed in a measured scowl. “I’m drawing the line, Rhett. I’m here for you, to let you vent and drink my booze and whatever else you need to do to work through what’s happening here, but I’m not going to take your side on this. Link adores you. He _adores_ you.”

“So you’re on his side? What the hell am I doing here then?” Rhett demanded.

“I’m not on his side either! I love you both like my own family, and I’m not _taking sides!_ And if you need to say shit to get it off your chest, then fine, do that, but I’m not going to agree with something I don’t believe just to give you that satisfaction. I don’t for one second believe that Link is less committed to your relationship than you are, even if it feels that way right now.”

Rhett rolled his eyes. “Why would it feel that way? Because he left me? Because he hasn’t made a single attempt to reach out to me since I walked into the airport? Gosh, I can’t imagine where I would have gotten that idea!”

Stevie sat back against the armrest and chewed her lower lip. Rhett glared at her as he took another slow gulp of his bourbon.

She sighed. “I know it’s hard to see it, Rhett. But his need to find himself isn’t a reflection on his love for you.” She paused, softening her voice even further. “You had so much more security in your life when he came along. You were craving your other half, but he was craving a home. You each found those things in each other. But you, you had a family that was solid—at least when you first met—and your need for Link didn’t come from the same depth of loneliness that he felt. He had felt aimless and needed someone to belong to in a way you’ve never had to understand. He let you become his identity. Now he’s making up for that.”

“But I did the same thing! Why does it not bother me the way it bothers him?”

“Because you’re _not_ the same person! You know Link better than anyone else in the world, maybe even better than he knows himself. But you aren’t him. You aren’t going to need the same things he needs or process your identity and your relationship in the same way he does. You need to let him do it in his own way and his own time.”

Rhett’s shoulders slouched, and he downed his second glass. “But how long do I wait?”

Stevie shrugged a shoulder. “How long are you willing to wait?”

Rhett’s eyes narrowed at his empty glass, his cheeks bulging where he clenched his jaw. “I’d wait forever for that bastard.”

Stevie smiled sadly and nodded once. “You hungry?”

Rhett’s eyes brightened at the suggestion. He stood, but the second he reached his full height he felt the alcohol reach his brain, and he wobbled slightly. Stevie held up her hands instinctively, despite knowing she wouldn’t be able to catch him if he toppled. Rhett held up a hand.

“I’m okay. Just got up too fast.”

Stevie looked unsure, but she stood to face him and smiled.

“Why don’t you lie down for a few minutes, and I’ll find something for us to eat. We can see later if you’re feeling up to going back to work.”

Rhett looked from Stevie to the couch, then he nodded as he lowered himself again. She patted his shoulder in parting before flitting from the room with a trail of long, blond hair flowing behind her.

He hadn’t felt the effects of the booze until he moved, but now it was painfully obvious. He was a little embarrassed about how strongly two glasses had hit him until he remembered how fast he’d downed it, not to mention the fact that he hadn’t eaten breakfast. His eyes struggled to focus on the room, the pictures on Stevie and Cassie’s walls wavering slightly like he’d just stepped off of a Tilt-a-Whirl. The dizzy feeling added to his agitation more than helped it, and he closed his eyes in search of relief.

Link’s face hovered behind his eyelids, lost and betrayed.

_'That’s just it, Rhett. It’s always about us.'_

Rhett gritted his teeth. It had always been about them, and gosh, it had been _good_ , hadn’t it? Who else had something like they’d had? How many people in this world were lonely, desperate for someone to come along who would love them unconditionally, who could know every ugly thing about them and still worship their very existence? How many people would kill to be part of an “us” at all?

_'I need you to go home.'_

Rhett felt the prick of tears, and he rolled into the back of the couch, shielding his eyes. He breathed in deeply, trying to calm the swell, but he felt it coming on fast. How could he walk away from Link to go home when Link _was_ his home? All he was doing was leaving home behind. He didn’t need Buies Creek. He didn’t need Los Angeles. He needed Link. Rhett swallowed the sob in his throat and draped a long arm across the exposed side of his face, forcing the ache down deep.

A few minutes later, he heard the soft footsteps of his friend approaching the couch. She paused, watching him. Rhett forced his body to lie still, his breathing agonizingly measured. A dull, ceramic clink told him Stevie had set a plate on the coffee table, but she didn’t walk away. She leaned down and gently brushed his hair back from his forehead, then laid a hand on his arm.

“Your lunch is here,” she whispered. “If you’re listening, I’m heading back to work. Call if you want a ride later.”

She paused again, giving him the chance to respond, but he lay still and quiet until she’d retreated. He listened as she moved around the room, pulling on shoes and grabbing her purse, and then she was gone.

***

When Rhett woke up, the light in the room had changed. He was rarely at Stevie’s house at this time of day, and it looked different than he was used to. There were houseplants on the window ledges that he’d never noticed before, lit up by the midday sun, succulents and spider plants leaning into the light. He blinked and rubbed his eyes as he got his bearings, and then he registered the sandwich still waiting for him on the coffee table. Before his brain had even noticed what was inside it, he had eaten half. He peeked between what was left of the bread: ham and cheese, mayo, and sprouts. The rest was gone in three bites.

A glass of water sat beside the empty plate, and he downed it. He could still feel traces of the bourbon warming his veins, but sleep and food had dulled the sensation. Dishes were carried to the kitchen counter, and Rhett slipped on his shoes.

He’d convinced himself that he was fine to drive, but he was all the way out the door before the empty driveway reminded him that he had not driven himself there. He didn’t want to bother Stevie for a ride back to the studio, not after she had already lost a good chunk of her workday for him. He pulled up his Über app instead, lined up a ride, and was back to Mythical Entertainment within a half an hour.

But now, facing down the heavy red door in the back lot, the studio was the last place he wanted to be. The crew had been patient and kept their distance since he’d returned, but he could see it in their faces: the questions, the concern, the _pity_. And it wasn’t just about him either. They knew their jobs were on the line if he and Link didn’t pull it together. What was the show without his other half? What was their career? All these people’s livelihood rested on the back of his marriage, and he had nothing to offer them for reassurance.

He turned around and began to walk, down the length of the lot and around the corner to the main road that passed by their front door. He passed the entrance and kept going, making it to the busy intersection beyond and following the new road, letting the rush of cars flying by drown out his thoughts. He passed Goorgen’s shop, glancing up at the familiar billboard with the slogan he and Link had dreamed up, but he kept going. He walked until his back began to twinge and the sun had dipped beyond the midday height before he turned to head back toward MythEnt.

The workday wasn’t done, and he knew he couldn’t escape running into his employees, but he slunk in anyway. He was tired and hot and needed to rest his back, so he slipped through the halls toward their office, refusing to meet the eyes of anyone he passed by. No one bothered him, and reaching his office, he shut the door behind him.

The office smelled like Link. Rhett could smell the tobacco candle despite it being unlit, a scent that had reminded him of Link for far longer than they’d had an office of any kind together. The smell of tobacco was the smell of their childhood. But even beyond it, Link’s scent lingered in the air. His shampoo, his lip balm, the inherent smell of his skin permeating everything. There would be no escaping it here, and he knew going home would be no better.

Rhett strode to his desk and booted up his computer, tapping his heel and his fingers with impatience as it loaded. At the very least, he could throw himself into his work. They’d only missed a few days, but business didn’t stop. And now, he supposed, he was working for two. He let his anger and grief fuel his drive, refusing to take even a bathroom break until hours had passed and the sun had set outside the window.

When Rhett finally emerged from the office, he discovered how quiet the building had become. No one, not even Stevie, had peeked in at him, not a work-related question nor a quick goodbye. He didn’t blame them; his body language had been a neon sign demanding privacy, and they’d given him that.

Rhett could almost hear Link’s voice in the silence. It belonged here, the sharp edges when he was focused and direct, the high, light bubble of his laughter. Dreamlike, Rhett floated through their space, witnessing his husband’s ghost. Link at his desk, fingers blurred on the keys, pausing to nudge his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Link leaning against the kitchen counter, warming cold hands on a full coffee mug. Link at their GMM desk, elbows braced against the surface, hands clasped, grin for days.

Without consciously having chosen to do so, Rhett found himself at his place at the desk. The quiet was deafening, his pulse thrumming in his ears. The only light on was the one above the desk, and he didn’t remember turning it on, but he knew the room had been dark when he’d entered. He smoothed his hands over the wooden surface. The desk was so wide, so long, having grown bigger over the years. They didn’t sit shoulder-to-shoulder the way they had back in the Chia Lincoln days. They didn’t have to. They were business moguls now, with a team and a brand, big sponsorships and flashy cameos, a sprawling set and a desk to match. It was nothing to ashamed of, and Rhett didn’t regret the way they’d grown. But it was a change all the same. And for everything new, something old had to die.

A flash of gold caught the corner of his eye, and Rhett turned his head. Not gold...bronze. It was like bronzing baby shoes, a relic of an era long gone, though they would never have known how truly poetic that was at the time. They received so many fan gifts now that they rarely made time to open them on camera, and besides, it didn’t fit the format the way it once had. But once, even the smallest, silliest things they received had merited a place of honor. They’d glued them together, one by one, until the boulder was so heavy it was a chore to move it, and it became time to talk of moving on to something new. And they did move on. They commemorated the completion of the Mythical Mail Boulder by spray-painting it bronze and leaving it in its own place of honor, just out of sight of the main camera views along the wall on Rhett’s side of the desk. It was a reminder of where they’d come from. But more often than not, it blended into the scenery. He’d seen it so many times, he barely noticed it was there anymore.

Rhett stood, stepped to the boulder, and ran his fingers over it. Bronze, though expensive, would have had staying power. It would have held the thing in perfect stasis, perhaps for centuries, for distant generations of archaeologists to study and historians to analyze. But it had been cheaper and funnier to simply spray paint it, a parody of something real. Rhett dug his fingers into it, prying at an action figure wedged into the side until it popped loose. It left a gap in the bronze coating, and Rhett touched the spot gently. He would never be able to seal that wound exactly as it had been before. The knowledge raised something primal in him, a raw emotion that threatened tears, but he pressed it down, translating it into rage.

He lifted the heavy boulder and heaved it at the checkerboard floor. It shattered with a crash, pieces flying everywhere. With a roar of frustration, he kicked one of the largest chunks and sent it flying into his gold Hamer guitar hanging on the back wall, and it fell to the floor with an angry clang. Rhett gasped and ran to the spot, picking it up like an injured child.

There was a scuff on the lower right edge, and he strummed it once. It was badly out of tune, but he couldn’t be sure that hadn’t been true before the drop. He strummed again, playing a painful-sounding chord progression before raising it back to its hook on the wall. Once he was confident it was secure, he turned back to the destruction around him.

The silence of the room had returned. Pieces of their past littered the floor. In the rubble, his eyes fell on two Lego figures still stuck together, one blonde and bearded and the other wearing dark hair and glasses, and he carefully lifted them from the mess. They had been in the center of the boulder, and through the upset and disruption, they’d stayed together.

Rhett wrapped a large palm around the figures. His hands shook with the adrenaline still coursing through him, but he closed his eyes, shutting out the chaos and focusing instead on the press of plastic into his palm. He loosened his grip when it occurred to him that the force could snap the glue that held them together. They had made it through a violence that had torn their world apart. Maybe now, if he handled them with care, he could make it up to them.


	8. Time and Space

When his eyes had adjusted to the dim light, Link studied the dated wallpaper. He remembered doing this as a kid, following these patterns with his eyes as he ran through what the day ahead held for him before climbing out of bed. This had been his bedroom as a child, at least on those weekends when he stayed with his dad. Rhett hadn’t stayed over much on the nights when Link had slept here, but it had been a relief when he did. Link never felt quite as at home at his dad’s, but Rhett brought home to him.

The smell of coffee wafting from down the hall coaxed Link to sit and stretch. He looked at the empty space beside him; he never felt inclined to spread across the bed when he had it to himself, which admittedly had been a rare occurrence. He was used to his side, and his side was where he stayed. But the bare space next to him seemed so vast despite this bed being so much smaller than the one they had at home. He wondered how empty it must feel for Rhett to be waking up alone in their huge California King.

Charles sat munching on toast and bacon at the small kitchen table, his eyes on an open newspaper. Link chuckled as he shuffled to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup.

“I forget people still read newspapers.”

His father looked up with a quizzical expression. “Where else do y’all find out what’s happenin’ in the world?” He turned back to his paper. “Shows like yours don’t count as news; y’know that, right?”

Link rolled his eyes and pulled a box of cereal from an upper cabinet. “There’s more on the internet than comedy shows, Dad. We’re not pretending to be a news source.”

“Well, I like the newspaper.”

“Then I’m glad they’re still printing it for you.”

Charles chuckled and took another bite of toast. With a cereal bowl in one hand and coffee in the other, Link settled into the seat across the table from his dad. They ate in silence, the only sounds the crunch of food and occasional rustle when Charles turned a page. When he came to the end of the paper, he folded it neatly and set it down on the table, then he looked at his son. Link was staring blankly at the table, his eyes far away.

“What’s the plan, son?” Charles asked, startling Link out of his stupor. “You’re welcome here, but you never did say how long you were stayin’.”

Link blinked at him, then looked away, focusing on his coffee as he raised it to his lips. “I dunno, Dad. I can go back to Mom’s if you need the space.”

Charles shrugged. After a beat, he pushed back from the table, gathering his dishes and carrying them to the sink. Link watched him. He knew they had similar mannerisms, and Link figured he probably had a somewhat better sense of his own than people who didn’t spend so much time seeing themselves on camera. He could see it in the way his father moved, the set of his shoulders, the slight tremor in his fingers and the way he pushed his hair back from his face. Link took a deep breath and spoke through the exhale.

“Did I do the wrong thing, Dad?”

Charles paused with his hands in the sink, water running from the faucet as he thought, then turned it off. He wrapped his hands over the edge of the counter and leaned into it.

“Do you feel like you did the wrong thing?”

Link sighed. “I made a commitment. I’m committed to him. That should mean something.”

“Doesn’t it?”

Link huffed loudly and leaned back in his chair, laying his palms flat on the table. He felt words itching on his tongue, and his mouth twisted over them but never let them out. He spotted a hangnail on his thumb and settled for chewing on it over deciding which retort to choose. His father turned around, crossed his arms across his chest and leaned against the counter.

“Is this just a break? Or are you done?” He paused and shifted his weight to the opposite foot. “You movin’ home?”

Link ripped the piece of skin free from his finger and watched as a drop of blood pooled into the spot. “I think it’s just a break. But I don’t know.” He sucked the blood from his thumb, avoided his father’s eyes. “How did you know when it was over with Mom?”

Charles sighed. “I think...fallin’ outta love was kinda like fallin’ _in_ love had been. When I fell in love with her, I knew I was happier with her than without her. And when I realized the opposite was true, that I was happier without her than with her, well...I guess that’s when I knew.”

Link didn’t answer. He picked up his coffee cup, eager to rinse the metallic taste of blood from his mouth. Charles cleared his throat, his eyes on the linoleum, and spoke again.

“Your mother and I weren’t together as long as y’all have been. But I still had to figure out who I was supposed to be without her. ‘Cause I thought we’d be together forever. We were a family, the three of us, and then I was alone. You’d still come to visit, but mostly you were with her, and I was just by myself. I had to figure out what that meant all over again, to be just me.

“There were times I wanted to beg her to take me back. But Sue, she was too smart for that. She knew I didn’t want her; I was just scared to look myself in the eye, to see what I was really made of.”

Charles looked up, and Link glanced away, back at the table. He could feel tears prickling in the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them away.

“Y’all’re good together, son. But don’t sell yourself short. You’re good alone too. You’re a good man. And if you were miserable before, then crawlin’ back before you’ve figured out what you need to is just gonna make you miserable all over again. Figure your stuff out first. Then figure out if you’re happier with him or without him.”

Link cleared the lump from his throat, but his voice was still gravelly when he spoke. “What if it takes too long? What if I figure out what I need to and decide I’m happier with him, but by then he’s moved on without me?”

“You really think that’s possible? After all these years?”

Link shook his head, then shrugged. “How much is he gonna put up with before I push him too far?”

***

Link had never, in all his days, felt so much trepidation over sending a text. His days of dating had been long before texting came on the scene; he and Rhett had been together since before cell phones were even commonplace, let alone texting as a feature. He chided himself for feeling nervous, when it was literally the most innocuous thing imaginable. It was a simple greeting to the man he’d known all his life, the man he’d shared everything with, from hopes and fears to bank accounts to bed and body.

But they hadn’t spoken in a week, not since Rhett had stormed into the airport terminal and left Link staring wanly after him from the rental car’s driver’s seat. He’d known it was in his court to reach out, and he’d taken it as permission to embrace the silence. But Rhett’s presence was loud, even when he slept, the warmth and comforting scent of his body as inescapable as the sheer size of him. Link felt like a shell without his husband breathing oxygen into his world.

_Hey, you free to talk?_

It was so casual, he could almost convince himself no time had passed. He knew Rhett kept his phone handy and would be quick to respond under most circumstances, unless of course he were busy filming a segment.

Would he be filming without him?

After five minutes, Link stood and paced away from his place perched on his dad’s back porch. He shoved his phone into the tight pocket of his jeans and bent to pick up loose twigs around the yard, blown from the yellow poplar tree that shaded the back corner of the lawn. He tossed them in a pile of yard waste behind the house.

He’d already washed the dishes left in the sink, but the sink itself could’ve used a scrub, so he found some Comet in the cabinet below and set to work. When the stainless steel sparkled, he moved on to the countertops, behind appliances and under kitchen canisters. He had swept and mopped the floors and moved on to cleaning out the refrigerator before his phone chimed, nearly an hour after he had sent his text.

_Sure._

Link rolled his eyes at the tone he could read in that one word. But he swallowed his pride and clicked on Rhett’s contact, expecting a quick answer but getting the same distance he’d had from his text. Finally, just before the call jumped to voicemail, Rhett picked up.

“Hey.”

Link winced at the lump that rose in his throat at the sound of Rhett’s voice, and he swallowed it down.

“Hey. You doin’ okay?”

Rhett sighed. “Well, I’m busy working for two here, but otherwise, yeah, I guess so.”

Link took a deep breath and exhaled, struggling to keep himself from taking the bait and letting Rhett pick a fight he knew he deserved. “I’m sorry, Rhett. I didn’t mean to stick you with all that.”

“Well, can’t be helped, I guess.”

Link pressed his eyes shut and focused on his breathing. “Rhett,” he sighed, his voice almost a whisper. “I’m _sorry_.”

Rhett’s silence on the other end was palpable; Link could practically hear his brain whirring through the line. His tone was cool and measured but somewhat softer when he replied.

“I’m sorry too.”

“I miss you.”

Rhett paused again. When he finally spoke, Link heard a muted tremor in his voice. “You comin’ home?”

Link was still seated on the kitchen floor, the contents of his father’s refrigerator strewn around him. He considered putting the containers back with his free hand, desperate for something to do to distract him from the things he was feeling, but he found all he could do was draw his knees in and wrap an arm around his shins, his forehead dropping to his kneecaps.

“I can’t. I’m...I need more time.”

“How much more time?”

“I don’t know, Rhett. Time.”

The silence on the other end stretched long. Link felt a bubble of panic rise in his chest, and he hurried to keep talking before his husband could respond, his words tumbling out.

“I’m not saying it’s over, baby, but it might be a while. I just...I have things to figure out, and I can’t hurry that. We’ll both regret it if I rush it. But I know you can’t sit around waiting for me. Maybe the show needs to end for a while, an extended hiatus or something, because I can’t make any promises right now. I don’t know what I need, or how long this’ll take, or what’s gonna happen at all.” He took a deep breath, swallowing the emotion tightening his throat. “I love you, baby, but I need to be alone for a little bit. I love you, I swear I do. I _love_ you, Rhett.” When his voice cracked around the words, he let himself grow quiet, hot tears spilling down his cheeks as he waited for Rhett’s response.

For long moments, none came. He could hear Rhett breathing over the line, the slow, controlled breathing of emotions reined in around carefully-considered words. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and dangerously quiet.

“What am I supposed to do with that, Link? I love you too, but what am I supposed to do?”

Link pressed his palm over his mouth to hold back the ragged breathing from the tears he didn’t want Rhett to hear.

“We built this _together,_ ” Rhett went on. “What do you want me to do? Try to keep people interested with crew videos? Throwback montages? You want me to tell the crew to go find some other work to keep them off the streets until you decide whether this company is going to keep going or not? Am I supposed to tell the fans we might be through? Or do I just ignore all the questions we’ve already got pouring in? Just pretend it’s business as usual while we give them nothing but dead air? Honestly, Link, what the fuck am I supposed to do with this?”

A sob slipped from behind Link’s palm, and he held the phone out, away from his ear while he pressed his face into his knees and tried to force down the shudders rattling through his chest. When he finally pulled the phone back to his cheek, he could only whisper his response.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry. This isn’t even my _fault_ , and you’ve just left me alone to deal with this!”

A searing edge penetrated the sorrow clouding Link’s mind. The grey fog became a red haze, and his tears began to dry against the heat rising in his cheeks.

“It’s not your fault? Not any of it? This is all on me?”

Rhett sighed, exasperated. “That’s not what I meant. I just mean that you—”

“ _No,_ Rhett. You don’t get to put this all on me! We drove each _other_ away, put everything else above our relationship, not the least of which being the freaking show. And, big surprise, that’s still all you can think about. The show. The Mythical Beasts. I’m freaking _falling apart,_ and you’re worried about a _show!”_

“Link, it’s not just a show! How am I supposed to pay our mortgage? How am I supposed to pay the crew, or the rent on the studio, or anything else? How long can I count on your journey of self-discovery disrupting the lives of dozens of people, and that doesn’t even account for the hundreds of thousands of eyes on us? I realize that this is important for you, but it affects a lot more people than just you and me!”

“Dammit, Rhett, _I don’t know!_ What else can I say to you? I don’t have an answer for you! I can’t conjure one up when there isn’t one to give!”

They fell silent, and after a long pause, Link began to wonder if Rhett had hung up on him, though his phone screen showed the call was still connected. Finally Link sighed, heavy and resigned.

“I realize you need something to work with, and I know you’re in a tough position. So maybe it would be easier if you just think of us as separated right now. I’m not saying that’s what I want, I just...I know you need some sort of answer, and the only answer I can give you is that you can’t sit around waiting for me. I can’t make any promises right now, so this is the best I can offer you.”

Rhett was still silent, but Link could hear the faint sound of his breathing. He waited, knowing Rhett would speak eventually; he would have to have the last word if nothing else.

“Fine,” Rhett said, quiet. “I can’t force you to be with me. You gotta do what makes you happy, right? God knows your happiness is the most important thing.”

Link huffed noisily. “Rhett…”

“No. I mean it. Do what you gotta do, man. Fuck around all you want, if that’s what you need to find yourself. I gotta go. I got work to do.”

The call ended abruptly, the green circle turning red. Link watched Rhett’s name go dim on the screen, then he calmly set the phone down on the floor beside him. He picked up a plastic container from the floor and launched it across the room, an angry scream breaking from his throat as the container hit the wall and broke open, splattering the wall and floor with tomato sauce. He stared at the mess, chest heaving and mind racing. He closed his eyes to the sight and felt the flow of tears he’d been holding back, felt them brimming in his throat, the tide barely stemmed. With a loud, broken wail, he finally let them come.

***

The sun was bright even beneath the heavy roof shielding the rows of gas pumps. Link’s uncle had graciously allowed him to borrow his old pickup again for a time while he’d be in town, and Link marvelled at how satisfying it was to simply fill the tank. It felt different than his car at home, small things like the height of the fill spout on the tank, the feel of the gas cap and the sound of the click when he replaced it and screwed it tight. He’d opted to pay inside rather than at the pump, though he wasn’t sure if he truly needed the snacks he planned to buy or if he simply wanted to relive that part of the experience as well—paying at the pump hadn’t been an option back when this truck was his.

He patted the edge of the truck bed affectionately and strode around the front end of the vehicle toward the convenience store. The bell over the door jingled as he passed through, and he made his way slowly to the potato chip aisle, in no hurry to rush the stroll down memory lane. He was contemplating a bag of sour cream and onion Lay’s when he heard his name ring out in a sweet, southern, sing-songy voice.

_“Link?”_

He looked up from the chips and laughed out loud when he saw the bright smile framed by a shoulder-length shock of vibrant red hair. She’d barely aged in twenty years, the only hints of time evident in a few creases around her eyes and mouth and a slightly plumped frame, though it did nothing to dampen her attractiveness.

“Kelsey,” he said warmly, and he reached out to wrap her in a hug. She walked into his embrace and squeezed, giggling as she let him go.

“How long you been in town?” she asked as she stepped back to take him in. “Damn, you look great! Better than ever! I mean, I watch your show sometimes, y’know, but it’s good to see you in person.”  A blush rose in her cheeks.

Link grinned. “I’ve just been here a couple weeks. Just taking some time. You live around here still?”

Kelsey shrugged. “I moved away for a while, but I found my way back after my divorce.” Link winced, but she waved it off. “It’s fine. I wasn’t really the marrying type after all. But you! Married that tall-ass boy of yours, I see!” She slugged him in the shoulder, and he laughed. “Good thing I helped you find him, huh?”

He smiled crookedly, the distant memory bittersweet. “Yeah. Good thing. Thanks for that.”

She rolled her eyes. “You thanked me then, that’s good enough.” She glanced over the aisles, looking around the small convenience store. “Is Rhett here somewhere?”

Link stuck a thumb out over his shoulder. “No, he’s, uh, back home. California home. Holdin’ down the fort.”

Kelsey nodded. She glanced around the room again, then at the chips he’d been perusing, chewing her lip. Link cleared his throat.

“You, uh...you wanna get a cup of coffee? Catch up a bit?”

Her face brightened. “Yeah. I’m free right now.”


	9. What You Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to make y'all wait too long for this chapter after the last one ended on a bit of a cliffhanger!
> 
> This chapter references the story's prequel, "[Home](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9182317/chapters/20841475)," pretty heavily, so as a reminder, if you haven't read that first, you'll be encountering a few spoilers ahead!

Link’s years on the west coast hadn’t made him forget how to be a gentleman per southern standards. Kelsey grinned with appreciation when he held the door for her. She stepped past him into the mid-sized coffee shop, the glass door flanked by hanging potted ferns. Link followed her inside and was struck with the comforting, familiar scent of espresso, the walls painted bright, energizing colors, and the reasonably modern decor. They stood together in line, quiet as they skimmed the large menu panels against the wall behind the baristas. When they reached the front of the line, Link nodded for her to order first. She asked for a small latte, and as Link ordered his cappuccino, he was already pulling out his wallet to let her know he would pay for both. Kelsey tried to object, but he waved her off, said it had been his idea for them to come in the first place. She smiled and conceded. They found a sunny table near a broad picture window and sat while they waited for their drinks to be called out.

“So,” Kelsey began, “how the hell have you been? How’s life in LA?”

Link chuckled and glanced down at his fidgeting hands, searching through his brain for a way to reply honestly without making the conversation unnecessarily heavy. “It’s...different there. Not in a bad way. I like the energy in California. It seems to fit my personality better than the pace of the South.”

Kelsey’s eyebrows raised. “That so? You seemed like such a good ol’ boy.”

“Despite falling for a man?”

She giggled. “Well, yeah, I suppose that did set you apart. I’m sorry for the way people talked when y’all came out.”

Link shrugged. “Thanks. It’s in the past now. And we had people who had our backs, even if they were few and far between.”

“If it means anything, I tried to defend you when I heard people talkin’. Not that anyone cared about my opinion anyway; I was just another degenerate.”

Link scoffed. “Kels…”

“—No, it’s alright. I’m over it too. People are assholes; they’re gonna think what they think. I’m glad y’all got outta here though. It’s probably easier for y’all out there.”

Link nodded thoughtfully. “I s’pose so, in that sense.”

Kelsey squinted, scrutinizing him. “Is there a sense in which it’s harder?”

Link rolled his eyes. “Same old Kelsey.”

She laughed and shrugged. “What can I say? I’m nosey.”

Link hopped up when their drinks were announced. He nodded in thanks to the barista and swept the hot paper cups back to their table. Kelsey smiled and thanked him as Link settled back into his seat.

“So, do you still keep up with Megan?” he asked, hoping the subject of Rhett’s ex-girlfriend would serve as a suitable diversion. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Not really. I mean, we’re Facebook friends, but we don’t talk much. No animosity or anything. People just grow apart, even best friends.”

Link swallowed the tightness in his throat and forced a smile.

“She seems to be doing well though,” Kelsey went on, “from what I can tell. Cute husband and a couple kids.”

Link smiled and nodded. “Good. I’m glad she’s well.”

“The question still remains, though. How are _you,_ Link Neal? Are _you_ well?”

Link took a sip of his cappuccino, then crossed his arms on the table and leaned into them, meeting the gentle challenge in her eyes.

“You never were much for small talk, were you?”

Kelsey grinned. “Nope.”

“Alright,” Link sighed, smoothing his palms across the table on either side of his coffee. “Here’s the thing. We’re having a rough time.”

Kelsey’s face softened, the smug grin melting into a sad, empathetic smile. She nodded but said nothing, and Link wrapped his hands around his cup as he continued.

“When we got together, right after you and I tracked him down in Raleigh, he was scared because he didn’t trust marriage and commitment anymore. He was afraid we would just end up like his parents, because no matter how much you love someone, it doesn’t guarantee you’ll always feel the same. And here we are, right in the middle of it.”

Kelsey reached out and wrapped her palm around his hand where it gripped his drink, and his eyes went to the spot. Her face tensed slightly, worried her action was unwelcome, but when he didn’t pull away, neither did she. He dragged his gaze from their hands, and when he couldn’t find anywhere else he wanted to let his eyes land, he allowed them to unfocus, his attention turning inward.

“It’s just...we’ve been together so long, and we’ve let ourselves kind of meld into one person. It didn’t bother me for a long time, but I think it just caught up with me.”

Kelsey nodded. “That makes sense. Y’all have so much history, and you work together, and everything else. That’s probably pretty intense.”

Link swallowed. “You don’t need to listen to me vent about my marriage problems.”

“I really don’t mind, if that helps you.”

Link pulled his cup closer to his chest, his hands slipping from her grasp, and she drew them back and took a drink of her latte.

“Can I ask you something?” Kelsey asked.

Link shrugged. “Sure.”

“Were you ever into girls at all? I know this is a personal question, so you can tell me to fuck off if I’m crossin’ a line here, but I was just wonderin’.”

A corner of Link’s mouth twitched up, and he breathed a small laugh through his nose. “I wondered about that for a while when we got together. I think it was hard for me to see because I was always so in love with Rhett and that just dwarfed everything else. But yeah, I liked ‘em. I had a few girlfriends before I got together with Rhett, and I never had any complaints about my time with them.”

Kelsey chuckled. “We had some fun at that party the night we met, right?”

Link blushed and nodded, laughing. “Yeah, that wasn’t so bad. You were the last girl I kissed! Crazy, right?”

She threw her head back and laughed. “That _is_ crazy! I remember it well. You were a good kisser.”

He rolled his eyes. “I can’t imagine I was that great. I was just tryin’ to make him jealous.”

“Well, you must’a been puttin’ plenty of effort into that, because you held your own just fine.” She grinned at him, and when Link caught himself lingering too long on the memory, his grin fell. Kelsey noticed the change immediately.

“Well, I s’pose you’ve had lots of good times with Rhett since then. It ain’t like you’ve gone all this time kissin’ nobody.”

Link chuckled. “That’s true. We’ve had our share of fun over the years.”

She smiled warmly. “That’s good. I hope you two get things sorted out. I like you together.”

“Thanks,” he said with a lopsided smile. “I do too.”

 

They talked until the sun began to dip low on the horizon. She told him about her marriage and subsequent divorce, about her job as a lab tech and the band she sang with on weekends. He told her his and Rhett’s story: the way their relationship grew and strengthened when they left Buies Creek for college, their early engineering days before they decided to step out into entertainment, the highs and lows of their success and how things started to crumble between them.

“I don’t even know that I wish we had done things differently,” Link said, rotating his empty coffee cup in his hands. “I don’t know what we could have done to prevent this. I loved being with him, and I think I still do. I still love him and can’t imagine my life any other way. But I just can’t shake this feeling that I don’t exist as an individual anymore. It sounds so petty.”

“No,” she interrupted, “it doesn’t. I can’t say I understand—I’ve been on my own for a long time, other than dates and scattered short-term relationships—but I can understand how important it is to identify as yourself, rather than how you relate to others. Who are we all by ourselves? Not just what we’re good at or who we have connections with, but just purely us? What defines us?”

“Yes!” Link exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “I love my life; I love my husband, my job, my home, my family. But they aren’t _me._  So what am I? Rhett says he gets that I need to work that out, but all he seems to see is how my struggle is wrecking our lives.” He looked her in eye and sighed. “And part of me is like, so what? Because I can’t carry on and be unhappy. I can’t just cave in on myself to keep our world afloat. And I feel like he wants to choose the life we built over me, my happiness and sanity.”

Kelsey rested her chin in her palm, a sad smile on her face. “I’m sorry, Link. That’s a tight spot to be in.”

Link felt his stomach rumble, and he glanced out the window at the setting sun.

“Oh gosh, it’s late. Are you hungry? I think I totally blew off my mom. I’m staying over there tonight and she was expecting me.”

Kelsey sat up straight. “Well, now that you mention it, yeah.”

“You wanna go get something? A burger or whatever?”

She eyed him, considering. “Ain’t your mama expecting you?”

He waved it off. “She’s fine. I’ll text her. Lewis probably wasn’t willing to wait up for me, and they eat so early, I’m sure I missed the meal by now.”

“It’s just…” Kelsey started, “I mean, I had dinner goin’ in the slow cooker already, but if you wanted to join me…”

“—Oh, no,” he interjected, “I don’t wanna impose.”

“No,” she chuckled, “it’s no imposition. I always make too much for just me. It’s hard to cook a single serving, and I eat the leftovers for days. I got a beef roast in there, carrots and potatoes and all that. How’s that sound?”

Link swallowed. “You sure?”

“Are you?” she said, the words slow and drawn out. “It’s just dinner, but—”

“—Yeah, of course. Just dinner. Old friends.”

Kelsey smiled shyly. “Old friends. So, yes?”

Link nodded. He stood, took both their cups and walked them to the trash can as she gathered her purse.

They were quiet as they returned to their vehicles. Link followed her car with his truck, though they didn’t have far to go before they pulled up to a small, light blue ranch home. The yard was well-kept, with a small, crescent-shaped garden beneath the front window and a welcome mat adorned with paw prints. She laughed when he looked down at it.

“I guess I’m one of those cat ladies now. I should have checked first; are you allergic to cats?”

Link shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I’m more of a dog person, but I don’t mind them. Not like Rhett does.”

“He’s allergic?”

“No, he just hates them.”

Kelsey frowned dramatically as she pushed open her front door. “And I thought he was such a good egg. Guess I was wrong about him.”

Link laughed as he looked around the entryway which opened into a modest living room to the right and a dining area beyond. Straight ahead was a short hallway that he could see entered into the kitchen. The house was comfortably lived-in, not messy but not so immaculate he felt afraid to touch anything. She slipped off her shoes and rolled her eyes at a basket of laundry perched on the couch.

“Sorry about this,” she laughed as she scooped it under an arm. “I would have straightened up if I’d known I would run into you today!”

“You still wouldn’t have known I would end up here.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder and grinned. “I suppose not. Well, c’mon in, make yourself at home. I’ll just, uh…” she patted the basket on her hip, “get rid of this thing and be back, okay?”

Link smiled and settled onto the couch. “Sure.”

She disappeared through the kitchen, and the moment the sound of her footsteps disappeared, a blonde, striped puff of fur appeared beside him.

“Well, hello!” Link greeted the cat, reaching out to stroke down its spine. It pressed up into his palm, rolling its back in a slow wave until he’d followed the motion out the end of the long tail. The cat nuzzled its face into his hand, nudging him for more. He scratched behind a furry ear, talking warm nonsense until Kelsey appeared in the entryway. She had changed her shirt and brushed her hair, and he smiled.

“I’ve made a friend.”

“So I see! This is Casper. He’s far too outgoing. You could have been an axe murderer.”

“Well, he woulda been safe even if I was.”

“Oh, great!” Kelsey said with an eyeroll. “Maybe he’d have gone and gotten help after you killed me at least.”

“Don’t count on it. You know what they say about cats eating their dead owners.”

She pointed at him, eyes narrowed. “That’s a bald-faced lie and I won’t have it uttered in my house. C’mon and eat, and quit bad-mouthin’ my babies.”

Link laughed and followed her to the kitchen. “How many ‘babies’ do you have?”

“Three, but you ain’t likely to see the others. Casper’s the only one with any social charisma. Wine?”

“Yes, please.”

She placed two sets of silverware and glasses of water at the kitchen table and pulled a bottle of wine from a high cabinet, filling two stemmed glasses half-full with a deep red and leaving the bottle on the table. Then she spooned two dishes full with chunks of tender beef roast, potatoes, carrots, onions, and turnips. Link was settling into one of the seats as she slipped a plate in front of him.

“This looks great. Thank you, Kels.”

“Don’t mention it. It’s nice to have company that talks back and doesn’t shed.”

They smiled and dug in.

 

Link had just finished his third glass of wine when Kelsey cleared their plates. She set them in the sink and moved to a cabinet, pulling it open and staring up into it while he watched her.

“Whatcha doin’?” Link asked.

“Trying to come up with something to offer you for dessert.”

“I don’t need dessert. Unless _you_ want something.”

She shrugged and pushed the cabinet door closed. Then her eyes lit up. “Oh! I just remembered!” She turned around and pulled open the freezer, extracting a quart of vanilla ice cream. “You like peanut butter, right?”

Link grinned and nodded.

“You wanna stir some into this?”

His grin broadened, all teeth, and she mirrored his expression before setting the carton on the counter. She found peanut butter, bowls, spoons, and an ice cream scoop while Link got up from his chair. He was surprised when a wave of dizziness hit him as he stood, and he gripped the back of his chair while it passed. Kelsey spotted the move from the corner of her eye.

“You alright there, cowboy?”

Link held up a palm for reassurance and moved carefully to her side. “I’m okay. Need help?”

Kelsey pushed a bowl containing two scoops of ice cream in front of him. “That enough?” Link nodded. Then she slid the jar of peanut butter beside his bowl and handed him a spoon. “Put in how much you like.”

Link grinned at the satisfying sight of large dollops of peanut butter landing on his ice cream. He stopped himself at two, knowing if he went too far he’d have more peanut butter than ice cream in his bowl, tempting as that was. He stirred it slowly, letting the smooth, light brown paste melt into the top layer of ice cream. Kelsey did the same, though with a higher proportion of ice cream to peanut butter in her own bowl. Then she returned the ingredients back to their places and picked up her bowl.

“Couch,” she said simply, and he picked up his bowl and followed. She set her bowl down on the coffee table and left the room again; then she returned with their wine glasses, both refilled.

“How are you envisioning me getting home tonight?” Link asked.

“I’ll call you a cab if you need one. You need to unwind, my friend.”

“I’m unwound!” he insisted. He slouched back against the couch, limbs sprawled, and grinned. “Don’t you see how unwound I am?”

Kelsey giggled under her breath and took a sip of her wine as she joined him on the couch, pulling her ice cream bowl into her lap and folding her legs beneath her. She laughed out loud when Link groaned upon eating his first bite.

“This is heaven,” he sighed. “Is this heaven? Was it in North Carolina all along?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe.”

After a few large, enthusiastic bites, Link pressed his palm to his forehead and groaned again, this time from pain instead of pleasure. “Ice cream headache!” he whined.

“Press your thumb to the roof of your mouth!”

He did, and the pain began to abate. He sighed gratefully when it had passed. “I blame you, making this delicious suggestion.”

“Now, now. I didn’t force it down your throat. No way were you starving after that meal.”

Link pointed his spoon at her. “This isn’t about sustenance. It’s about enjoyment.”

“Well, I should hope so! How would Rhett feel if you went home having subsisted on ice cream for meals the whole time you were gone?”

“I can’t imagine he’s doing much better. He eats like crap when he’s mad.”

Kelsey set her bowl on the table and picked up her wine glass. “So, you say he’s mad because, why? He thinks this personal journey of yours is wrecking your collective lives?”

“Well, it kind of is. He’s not wrong. Our company is on the line if I don’t come home.”

“Is that a possibility? That you won’t go home?”

Link sighed and set his own bowl down. He took another large swig of wine but left the glass on the table.

“I don’t know. I don’t wanna leave him. I don’t know any other life, and I like the one we have. But I don’t know what it’s gonna take to figure myself out. I need to…”

He trailed off, and Kelsey nudged his leg with her toe. “You need to what?”

Without thinking too hard about it, Link reached for his wine glass and downed the rest of the contents. Then he turned and took her glass gently from her hand, setting it on the table.

“Can I kiss you?”

Kelsey’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“I ain’t kissed a girl in twenty years, and gosh, you’re beautiful, Kels, and I liked kissing you last time I had the chance. I just...I need somethin’ that ain’t me and Rhett, y’know?”

“You sound like the old southern Link when you’re drunk.”

“I’m still the old Link, whoever that is. I know he’s gotta be in here somewhere.”

“Link…” Kelsey sighed, “I ain’t interested in bein’ just a rest stop on your journey. It’s not like I’m looking for some declaration of emotion here, but this...this ain’t about me.”

He scooted closer to her on the couch and reached for her hand. She didn’t resist.

“Don’t you remember how you were when we met? Just ready for a good time? No strings attached?”

“We’re not teenagers anymore. And you’re married.”

“He said it was okay.”

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “He did not.”

“No, really!” Link insisted, scooting closer until their knees were touching. “I told him he was better off thinking of us as separated since I couldn’t guarantee if and when I’d be back. And he said I should just...go ahead and do whatever I need to do to be happy. He said that.”

Kelsey sighed and squeezed his hand. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re gonna regret.”

“I’m not gonna regret it. I need… _Shit,”_ he swore when tears rose in his eyes. He cleared the lump in his throat and started again, looking away from her. “I need to feel something. I need something to be new and exciting for once in my life. And you, I just...I haven’t felt this eagerness in a long time, and I wanna chase that feeling. And it _is_ about you, ‘cause you’re the one makin’ me feel that way, and it feels good, Kels.”

“Link…” Kelsey cooed, cupping his jaw in her hands and lifting his face to meet her eyes. “Are you sure about this?”

He mirrored her action and curled his own palms around her jaw. When he leaned in slowly, she met him halfway. Her mouth tasted like his own, peanut butter and red wine, but her lips were soft, her skin smooth and foreign without the beard he was used to kissing through. She felt small, startlingly feminine, and when she allowed her lips to part against his, her tongue met his hesitantly, so unlike the assertive confidence of his husband. Link knew she had it in her to kiss with boldness—he’d experienced it for himself all those years ago—and that her hesitance was likely circumstantial. His mind was swimming with the heady combination of alcohol and adrenaline, and he used it to fuel what he hoped was the spark that would ignite her.

Link let one hand glide back to cup her head and bring her in closer, kissing her deeper while the other hand dropped to grasp her upper arm and squeeze it gently. She sighed, a light, contented sound, and he licked deeper into her mouth, tangling his tongue with hers. He leaned into her and guided her back until she was against the arm of the couch, her arms going around his body, palms flat on his back.

His mouth trailed down over her jaw to her throat, and he spoke into her skin, his voice low and husky.

“Gosh, you feel good, Kels.”

“Hmm…” she sighed. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

His lips explored her long neck, his right hand at her waist, teasing at the strip of flesh beneath the hem of her shirt. He heard her breath hitch, and he paused to determine if the sound meant _stop_ or _keep going._ Link lifted his head to look into her eyes, and she pressed forward, taking his mouth eagerly with hers again. He groaned into the feeling and flattened his palm against the skin at her waist, his fingers disappearing beneath the fabric.

“Y’know,” Link murmured against her mouth, “I’ve never been with a woman.”

Kelsey froze. “Link.”

He opened his eyes and looked into hers, wide with alarm. “Not that I’m presuming you’d want to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to.”

“Do you?”

Kelsey swallowed. She pressed at his chest, coaxing him to sit up and free her to do the same.

“I’m not going to be responsible for ruining a marriage.”

Link huffed in frustration. “If my marriage is ruined, it won’t be your fault.”

“It won’t help.” She sighed. “You would regret it. And Rhett…”

Link’s heart twisted at the sound of his husband’s name. “I don’t want to talk about Rhett.” He sat back further, moving to the place he’d occupied earlier.

“Link, I hope this doesn’t feel like a rejection. It’s not that I’m not attracted to you.”

He held up a placating palm, then he ran his fingers through his greying hair and nodded. “I get it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Link sighed. He picked up his ice cream bowl and wine glass, stood, and carried them to the kitchen sink. Kelsey followed quietly behind him with her own dishes. They stood in silence for a moment in the dimly-lit kitchen.

“I should go,” Link whispered. “I’m sorry I…”

Kelsey laid a palm on his chest. “It’s okay. I understand. But this isn’t what you need.”

He inhaled a shaky breath. “I know.”

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

Link wrapped his arms around her shoulders and drew her in for a hug, and she responded warmly, her arms coming around his rib cage.

“You too, Kelsey.”


	10. Open Window to the East

Link couldn’t stop staring at his hands.

The sun had just crested the treeline bordering his mom’s backyard. The golden light warmed his knuckles and the backs of his hands, though his palms were plenty warmed by the hot mug of coffee he held. He studied the lines and creases in his skin, the soft blue veins, the trimmed nails. The ring on his left hand.

He’d been ready to cheat on his husband. He was drunk and stupid, and Kelsey was safe. She was the perfect intersection between familiar and new, comfortable yet exciting. He’d been disappointed when she’d stopped him, but now he wasn’t sure how he felt. He regretted betraying Rhett for the pain it would cause, but he couldn’t bring himself to truly wish he hadn’t kissed her.

The question had been hovering in Link’s mind for months: what would his life have looked like if Rhett hadn’t come into it? It was one thing to evaluate himself as a single entity, but it also wasn’t likely he would have coasted through life on his own. Would he have married someone else? Would it have been a woman? Would he have had children? He’d always loved Rhett, and the depth of that love had always put a damper on the affection he’d had for the girls he dated, but what if a different man had come along? Would anyone else but Rhett have captured his heart enough to give him the boldness to come out? And would the Rhett of that universe have married a woman too and had a family?

Link startled at the feeling of a small, gentle hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to see his mother settling beside him on the porch step. She looked out over the waking yard, bird calls announcing the day’s beginning. She took a deep breath of the fresh air and exhaled slowly.

“You okay, kiddo?”

Link looked down into his coffee. “Would you tell me what I was like before Rhett?”

Sue rested her chin in her hand, an index finger pressed against her lips as she thought. “Well… you were the same you, but you were lonely. Quiet. You wanted a real friend so badly. You were well loved, don’t misunderstand me, but a family that loves you isn’t the same thing as a real, true friend. Nothin’ ever really clicked with the other kids at school, though not for lack of you tryin’.”

Link huffed a laugh out his nose and took a sip of his coffee.

“Family loves you unconditionally,” she went on, “and we did. But if no one else really latched on to you, it was like you took that as meanin’ you weren’t truly likable. It wasn’t true, but your mama tellin’ you that wasn’t convincing. That’s what mamas are supposed to think.

“But then Rhett came along, and I’ll never forget that first night he slept over. Y’all wouldn’t shut up, just gigglin’ and carryin’ on till the wee hours of the morning, and I knew right away that he was gonna stick. He liked you for you, and you could feel it. He helped you believe that who you were was good enough. You two were just natural together.”

“Something of me has to be natural without him, though, right?” Link interjected. “Rhett can’t be the only thing that taps into who I really am.”

Sue thought about it some more, her eyes watching a chipmunk scour the yard while she pondered.

“You were quieter,” she said finally, “but not unhappy. You were meticulous, attentive to detail, eager to learn. You’ve always been those things, even as a toddler. You weren’t a whole different person though, Link. Sure, everyone changes, and you’ve changed. But you’re still essentially you. And the differences I saw when Rhett came along were not about you changin’; they were about you comin’ alive. He brought out the person you were meant to be by showin’ you that that person was worth bein’. People talk about bringin’ someone outta their shell, and that really is the best way to describe it. You were you, but hidden, unsure of yourself. Rhett cracked open your shell. He made you your fullest self, the most Link you could be. I’ve always been grateful to him for that. He brought you to life.”

Link reached over and took his mother’s hand, squeezing it firmly. Maybe she was right; maybe Rhett hadn’t changed him into a completely different person. But Link had still become dependent on him in a way that he wasn’t sure he liked. Even if he had his individuality, did he have his own independence?

***

That evening, Link stood at the edge of the river wondering why he’d decided this was a good idea. He’d found a waterproof camping bag at a local sporting goods store and shoved as much into it as he could manage. This included a compact sleeping bag, water and food for a day, warm clothes, a lighter, and despite his reservations, his phone and a battery-powered charger. He didn’t want to lean on it out of boredom and ruin the purely rustic experience of camping alone beneath the stars, but his practical nature couldn’t shake the conviction that he should prepare for emergencies.

He had to admit, however, that the anticipated boredom was causing him more stress than the fear of emergencies. What did he and Rhett used to do? Was conversation and company really sufficient to ward off the monotony? Their tiny campsite island had few amenities to boast of, but they’d spent many nights there as teenagers, and the time always flew by. Upon planning this excursion, Link had intended to prove to himself that he was capable of surviving the physical challenges of camping without Rhett. He could build a fire, cook a meal, brave the darkness alone. Focus on that, he decided. Focus on the practical, and perhaps the theoretical would work itself out.

Sneaking into Keith Hills Golf Course had bothered him more than it used to, but now that he stood on the edge of the Cape Fear River, the golf course to his back, he faced his next challenge. All of this had seemed so easy once. Link shook his head, rolling his eyes at his own hesitation. He was in great shape for an almost-forty-year old, and even if he wasn’t quite as spry as he had been at seventeen, he really could do worse. He stripped off his lightweight sneakers and socks, peeled off his shorts and t-shirt, and shoved them all in the bag. He glanced down his body at the boxer briefs that remained, sighing at the thought of soggy underwear, before glancing up and down the riverbank and behind him to the golf course. It was still light out, but the days were still long; most of the town would be on their way home for dinner by now. He saw no one, so he slipped off his briefs and shoved them into the bag as well. It wasn’t as if this river hadn’t seen him naked before.

The cold water shocked him when it hit his feet, but his self-consciousness pressed him forward, the flow reaching his shins, his knees, his thighs, his waist, his chest. Link gasped and panted as he paddled forward, the small patch of land ahead of him his goal. His body had just begun to acclimate to the temperature of the water by the time he pulled himself free, so the air offered no immediate comfort. Link was grateful he had thought to pack a towel, and he quickly dug it free of the bag and wrapped himself up tightly.

In no hurry to drop the towel and expose himself to the air before dressing, Link sat on the bank of the small island and watched the water flow past. It had to have been nearly twenty years since he’d been to this spot, though he was certain he’d never done it alone. He’d sat here quietly with Rhett, enjoying the sound of the water and the breeze, but Rhett’s presence had always been loud. The sounds of nature had been muffled by the awareness of the other man’s skin, sun reflecting off the drying droplets. He’d listened to Rhett’s breathing and the sound of his own heartbeat. Before they’d accepted that they were in love, Link’s heart had pounded with the force of the conflict over his own feelings. Afterward, his heart would thrum in anticipation, wondering who would be the first to reach out, fingers trailing across chilled skin, mouths tasting the river left behind in every dip and curve of their bodies.

Rhett had never been further away, but Link could feel him everywhere. Why had he chosen to explore his independence in a place so entwined with memories of Rhett? Maybe, he decided, it was just the challenge he needed. To do something he never did alone, in a place he’d never been alone, and see if he could find his solitary self within it. Link nodded once in conviction and stood, forcing himself to drop the towel before he’d freed his clothes from the bag, letting the chill of the air and the feeling of exposure fuel his resolve.

 

Dusk was falling before Link sat again, a pile of gathered firewood on one side and his bag on the other. Building a fire was like riding a bike. He steepled the larger pieces over his kindling: some twigs and dried grass he’d found on the island. The lighter he’d brought wasn’t the long, skinny kind, so he kept a couple dry twigs handy. The tiny flame of the lighter sprung to life on the second click, and Link held the twigs to the heat until they caught. He stuck them between the propped logs to the kindling within and watched the fire spread, then smiled smugly at how successful his first attempt had been.

“Not bad, huh?”

The silence that answered him was deafening. In spite of everything, he’d expected an answer. There was always an answer; Rhett never missed an opportunity to tease, to comment, to praise, whatever the occasion called for. Link felt the quiet grip his heart, and he swallowed the longing that tried to choke him.

“I’m doing great out here, Rhett. Did you see how I lit that fire?”

Rhett would have sniffed, a withheld laugh.

_You didn’t even burn yourself._

Link rolled his eyes at the imagined jab.

“I didn’t drown in the river either.”

_That’s ‘cause you didn’t have me tacklin’ ya._

Link laughed out loud, then slapped his hand over his mouth to muffle his volume, though not before it had bounced over the current to the darkness beyond. As the last remnant of his outburst disappeared beneath the sounds of the water and the night, he listened for new sounds, anything to indicate someone had heard him, that someone was nearby, investigating the flickering orange light on the island. Nothing came. Just the darkness and the Cape Fear River.

“I could go back to school if I wanted to,” Link said to the silence. “No more engineering though. I don’t know what I’d do. Maybe film school, like we’d wanted at the start. I’ve got some experience under my belt now, ya know? I’d figure something out.”

The river was static, like white noise, no variations he could interpret as language.

“I’d do fine, Rhett. I’m smart. I’m a hard worker. I’d probably do well on my own anyway. I like things a certain way, and you’re just...you’re so…”

Link huffed in annoyance and turned to his bag beside him. He dug into it, pulling out a pack of hot dogs and a pack of buns. He shoved two of the dogs onto a long stick he’d reserved from the fire and pressed them into a strategic corner, near a patch of glowing embers but out of any direct flame.

The darkness felt more ominous than before, but Link wasn’t afraid of the dark. He wasn’t even afraid of what might be lurking within it. He was just afraid of what it meant. To distract himself, he began to hum the first song that popped into his head, something light and upbeat. They used to sing it on camping trips like these. He wasn’t sure a song that reminded him of Rhett was the best distraction, but when he pressed himself for other options, he knew there would be none. There was nothing in his life that didn’t remind him of Rhett.

He pulled the bronzed, bubbling dogs from their stick and slid them into two buns, balancing one in his lap while he bit into the other. It wasn’t the same without condiments, but he hadn’t been able to justify the extra space in the bag that a bottle of mustard would have required. He chuckled as he remembered how many plain dogs they had eaten for the hot dog taste tournament they’d done for the show. It hadn’t seemed so bad at first, but after a while, the taste had been pretty overwhelming. At least now he had the buns to temper the texture.

He ate a third hot dog before he was satisfied, then, with nothing better to do, rolled out his insulated sleeping bag and settled into it. It didn’t provide much in the way of a barrier from the rocky ground beneath him, but it was warm, with an inflatable pillow built in. Link closed his glasses into their case and left it perched just inside the opening of his bag, easily accessible should the need arise. The fire was burning down, a dull red glow with the occasional flicker as sparks popped and snapped. Link lay on his back and watched smoke curl up into the air and vanish into the night, the song still bouncing through his mind.

_‘When I wake up...well, I know I’m gonna be…’_

He wasn’t tired. It was too early to sleep, too dark to explore, and there was no one to talk to. Even if he lived alone, he’d have a TV. Or at least a freaking book. He turned his head and looked at his bag, silhouetted in the fading firelight, and heaved a sigh of resignation as he caved.

He sat up, replaced his glasses, then shoved an arm deep into the bag, past clothes and food to the phone hiding at the bottom. He’d put both the phone and the portable charger in an additional waterproof bag, just to be safe. He turned the power back on and waited, tapping impatient fingers on his knees.

When the screen lit up, Link flinched at the brightness, and as soon as his settings were accessible, he brought the dimmer down low. He poked around, pulling up social media accounts he rarely used and immediately regretting it. He didn’t want to see the fans’ questions, concerns, accusations. Finally he opened a text to Rhett.

_You awake?_

It took a minute for the text to send. His internet service left much to be desired out in the wilderness, but it still miraculously offered enough to get a message through. It was another minute before he received a reply.

_It’s only 9:30. Of course I’m awake. Are you?_

_No, I’m texting in my sleep._

_You’ve done worse in your sleep._

Link chuckled, and the sudden noise startled him.

_I’m camping on the island. It’s too quiet._

_Sing a song._

_I did. It’s weird singing alone._

Rhett’s side of the conversation quieted, and Link immediately felt self-conscious. He wouldn’t blame Rhett if he were mad, being left alone, then made to comfort Link for his own self-chosen loneliness. He kicked himself for having mentioned it at all. Then Rhett’s text bubble popped up on screen.

_What did you sing?_

Link exhaled his withheld breath, then he smiled as he typed the silly nonsense words.

_Da-da-lat-da!_

He laughed out loud when Rhett responded with the echo.

_Da-da-lat-da!_

_Dun-diddle-lun-diddle-lun-diddle-lun-diddle-la-da-da!_

_***_

Rhett closed his laptop and tossed it beside him on the bed. Receiving a text from his husband had taken the fun out of the porn he’d just been about to watch, but in spite of that, he was glad for the interruption. Porn got the job done, but it was hollow. He missed connection. He missed Link. And it gave him a glimmer of hope to know that Link had been missing him. Or at least that’s what he was willing to read into their brief, light exchange.

Rhett didn’t want to miss him. He wanted to be angry. And he was; he was still facing every day trying to fill in the significant gaps that his husband and business partner had left. Link was a powerhouse of work ethic, and not having him here—busting his ass for their company from dawn till dusk—left a lot of slack for the rest of them to pick up. But that didn’t change the fact that there was more to Link’s presence than his role in their business, and the other absences left more complex holes than simply work and frustration.

Their house was so quiet without him. Even when he wasn’t talking, Link provided an aura of energy. He flitted from place to place, wiping counters and straightening bookshelves. He whistled and muttered songs, or chattered to himself under his breath, rehearsing conversations or planning the next day’s to-do list. Rhett would sit and listen to the staccato sounds, like an overgrown squirrel, and grin. And Link would stop when he saw it, incredulous smile and narrowed eyes.

“What? You got somethin’ to say?”

Rhett would just shake his head and chuckle. “Nope. Not a thing.”

Link would put down whatever his hands were futzing with and close the space between them in quick strides. “Spit it out, McLaughlin.”

Rhett’s hands were on his hips as Link slid into his lap. “Spit what out, Neal?”

Hot breath. Link’s lips on Rhett’s neck. “You were laughin’ at me.”

A quiet gasp. “Never.”

“Liar.”

Rhett tried to shake off the memory, tried to remember why he was mad, but he missed him. He missed his kiss, his touch, his warmth. He missed Link’s fingers creeping beneath the hem of his shirt, tickling into the hair on his belly, making Rhett squirm. He missed one hand sliding down into his waistband, jaw slackened as he mirrored Rhett’s expression, eyes lighting up as his palm wrapped around soft, warm skin.

With his eyes squeezed shut, it was easy to imagine his own hand was Link’s. He could almost hear Link’s voice low in his ear, whispering encouragements as he stroked him long and slow. Rhett’s body charged forward, the heat of memory drawing him quickly to his climax, but he resisted. He wanted to take his time. He revisited every sense: the sounds of heavy breath and steady strokes. Link’s hair disheveled over hooded eyes. The scent of musk and the taste of salty skin. Pleasure spreading, spiking. Joy and longing and love bursting free.

He didn’t want to open his eyes, so Rhett lay still, catching his breath. He wanted to enjoy the memory, still so close at hand. He felt Link’s weight slide slowly from his lap, taking his warmth with him. Footsteps retreated as he returned to his chores.

When Rhett opened his eyes, he was alone again.

He couldn’t know if he’d ever be anything but alone again.

***

They’d tried Jordan, then Becca, then Kevin, then Nicki. None had been bad. Jordan was a natural comedian, and Becca’s dry humor was impeccable. Kevin had a lot of history with Rhett and a good back-and-forth dynamic. Nicki was charming and sharp-witted. Views were down, but it wasn’t as low as fully guest-hosted episodes; Rhett’s presence seemed to be keeping a reasonable portion of the viewer base coming back. But it wasn’t the same.

Stevie sat on the leather couch in their office, scrolling through her laptop with one hand while the other tapped thoughtfully at her lips.

“Alex?” she said suddenly, interrupting Rhett’s train of thought.

He looked up from his computer and turned toward her. “Doesn’t he come as a package deal now? I don’t need both him and Mike.”

She shrugged. “I guess that is their brand.” She paused, thinking. “Tess might be fun.”

Rhett nodded. “But she’s got her thing, y’know? It would be confusing to have her showing up on non-food-related episodes.”

“Why? She’s been on some of the Mores that weren’t food-related.”

Rhett sighed and swiveled his chair toward her, slouching down into an exasperated sprawl. “You have been notably skipping someone.”

“No, Rhett.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not good on camera. I’m too...I dunno...shy.”

“You were a freaking model, Stevie. You’re not shy.”

“You don’t have to talk when you’re a model. You just stand there looking mysterious and aloof.”

Rhett stood and crossed the room to join her on the couch. “You’ve been with us for so many years now. We have a rapport. It may not be like the one I have with Link, but it’s nothing to scoff at, right? We’re old friends by now.”

“I don’t know if I’d call us _old_ friends, but we are good friends.”

“So? Will you give it a shot? We could put you in some of the really fun episodes, do some crazy stunts or something...though not _too_ crazy,” he amended when he saw her eyebrow arch up. Stevie held his gaze for a moment, but when he didn’t back down, she sighed.

“Fine. We can try one out, see how it plays with the viewers. Fair?”

Rhett beamed. “I’ll take it.”

***

Stevie’s episode was a blast. The first segment was an extreme modeling challenge—a nod to her former career—that called for them to hold very specific model poses in unlikely settings, such as at the top of a step ladder, underwater, and while members of the crew tickled them with tiny plastic hands at the ends of long rods. Predictably, Stevie won. The second bit was a bean-eating contest, with the beans being dropped one at a time from above them while they tried to catch them in their mouths. Also predictably, Rhett won, though Stevie argued it was because his height meant he could catch them more easily. In the third segment, they played a ‘friend’ version of the newlywed game to see how well they really knew each other, and in the More, they talked about what had brought Stevie to Mythical and what the progression of their personal and professional relationship had been like.

The filming had gone perfectly. He and Stevie had a natural chemistry, a long-built comfort with each other that only Link surpassed. After everything had been sent to editing, Rhett took to his office to work in peace, answer emails, and tinker with some creative projects he and Link had had in the works.

But he found his mind wandering the rest of the afternoon. It had felt good with Stevie, one of the handful of crew members who seemed more like a friend than an employee or coworker, but it was never going to be right. They weren’t fooling anyone. What made this company work was the dynamic he had with his oldest friend, his best friend, his husband. And not only were no substitutes ever going to come close to that, but all they did was represent what was slipping away from him.

Rhett rotated his chair to take in the office. The vines hanging down had grown to form a partial curtain that hid their desks from the doorway. It gave them a sense of home, a reminder of the times they’d disappear into nature and hide away, two boys in love against the world. But home can’t be faked. No one in the world was going to replace Link. And this office, this company, was never going to be the home he had in his husband.

Rhett was out the studio’s back door and in his car without a word. He didn’t know where he was going, but he found himself heading north, away from the city and into the wilderness.

Once he’d pulled free of the city’s grip, he floored the gas. He imagined Link beside him, chest bare, tanned arm out the window as he whooped and sang and let the wind whip shaggy dark hair across his face. Then the image changed, a man with grey streaks in his hair and a stiffness in his shoulders, the lines in his face telling the story of long nights working and words left unsaid. Rhett had done this to him, let them become a concept, a marketing strategy.

“Link…” Rhett said to the man he imagined there. But Link’s face remained turned away from him, eyes on the desert. Rhett hit the brakes and eased the vehicle onto the dusty shoulder. The car faced north, and Rhett looked past the empty passenger seat on his right, out the open window to the east. Somewhere, far beyond that window, was the man he loved.

“I don’t want it without you,” Rhett said to the open window. “If I made you feel like all this was more important to me than you are…” he swallowed hard. “Then it’s gone. Is that what you want?”

A truck sped past him on the highway, and Rhett flinched as the car rocked. He took a deep breath.

“You really think I could be part of something that was the reason I lost you? I don’t fucking want this without you, Link.” His voice broke, throat tightening around the words. “You hear that?” he shouted out the window. “I’m done! If what you need is to see that you mean more to me than this stupid show, then it’s gone. It’s done. And if you _still_ don’t want me—” Rhett choked on a sob, then pressed on, “—then I’m still done. I don’t want this without you. I’ll fucking tear this thing to the ground, baby, and I’m gonna win you back.”


	11. When I Come Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Immense thanks to [FamousWolf](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FamousWolf/pseuds/FamousWolf) for helping me wrangle this chapter into something with the right amount of impact. The version that lived in my head before we talked it though would have fallen flat.

It was the most clarity Rhett had had in a long time. It made him want to take a deep, cleansing breath, but he remembered where he was, recycled air just chock-full of germs, and he resisted the urge. Instead he closed his eyes and let his muscles sink into the cramped airplane seat.

_‘You can’t do this, Rhett. It’s ridiculous!’_

But he was sure. He was sure this was the way, and even if it wasn’t, he had no other choice. He told Stevie as much.

_‘But he’s gonna come back, Rhett. You’re his whole world, and he’s gonna come back. And when he does, he’s not gonna want you to have just thrown all this away as some grand gesture of love. Are you sure this is what he wants?’_

He’d placed his hands on her tiny shoulders and looked down at her, soft and smiling.

 _‘No,’_ Rhett had said, _‘I’m not. But it might be the one thing that saves us anyway.’_

He had expected to feel more of a sense of mourning when the show was over. He hadn’t expected this peace, this calm expectation for everything ahead. He knew there was still a chance Link wouldn’t take him back. Maybe he’d found his own clarity that told him he needed to enter a new season of his life, one that Rhett couldn’t be a part of. But Rhett refused to let the panic grip him. He pushed it down and focused on the future he hoped for: starting fresh with Link, the only thing that mattered.

 

There was no one waiting for him when he landed at the Raleigh-Durham airport. He hadn’t told anyone he was coming. He picked up a burger in the terminal and a rental car on his way out, and then he was off to Buies Creek.

He held onto that clarity he felt, letting it fuel him as he drove and chase away his fear. He rolled down his window and let the clean smell of the country aid the feeling. The scent reminded him of better days, and he filled his lungs now that he was free of the smog, the crowds, the recycled air.

Rhett couldn’t know for sure where Link was staying since he’d been moving back and forth between his parents’ houses, but he decided to start with Mama Sue. Link had always had a somewhat easier time opening up to her over Charles, and it seemed like the place to which he might default during a tumultuous time like this.

It was just after 6:00pm and beginning to rain when he pulled up to her front door. Rhett slipped out the driver’s side door, ducking against the drops hitting the back of his neck as he hopped up the front porch. He thought of just walking in but decided he needed to approach this with more formality. After all, he and Link were technically separated right now. He knocked, then waited, listening for footsteps. After a minute, he tried a second time, knocking louder. When no answer came, Rhett tried the door. It was unlocked, but that didn’t mean much. Neither Link’s mom nor her husband tended to lock the door when they left the house.

“Hello?” Rhett called, hesitancy in his voice, as he stepped inside. He stood in the doorway for a moment and listened for answering voices, but none came. It was unlike Sue and Lewis to be away from home at this time of day, though, so Rhett continued inside.

“Hello?” he called again as he closed the door softly behind him. There was no scent of dinner cooking or having recently been cooked. Rhett took a winding path through the house, scouring all the common rooms on his way to the guest bedroom. Once he reached it, he found only the usual accoutrements in the room and nothing that indicated Link was staying there. He swept back out of the house without a second thought.

 

It was a little early for dusk, but the rain had set in and brought the darkness earlier than usual. It was getting hard to see the road as the drizzle had turned to fat, wet drops, but Charles didn’t live far. After he pulled into the driveway, Rhett pulled his collar up to protect what he could of his head from what was quickly becoming a downpour, and he raced from the car to the protection of the front porch.

There were lights on in the house, and within a minute of Rhett’s knock, Charles’s face appeared in the doorway. He looked Rhett up and down with the hint of a grin quirking up the corner of his mouth. Rhett knew he looked pathetic, wet and hunched against the rain still blowing in from beneath the overhang.

“Is Link here?”

Charles stared him down a moment longer. Finally, he pulled the door open wider with a faint chuckle and stepped aside.

“Come on in outta the rain, Rhett.”

Rhett obeyed. He shook out his hair and jacket as he entered, and Charles closed the door behind him, then gestured toward the kitchen.

“Can I getcha anything? You hungry?”

Rhett shook his head. “No, thank you. Is Link here?” he asked again.

Charles waved him toward the living room, then walked there himself with the expectation that Rhett would follow. He spoke with his back to Rhett.

“No, he’s not. Come sit down.”

Rhett suppressed a frustrated huff; he didn’t want a heart-to-heart with his father-in-law; he wanted directions to where he could find Link. As Rhett conceded and took a seat on the couch, Charles settled into his recliner and looked Rhett over with the same deep-set blue eyes as his son. Rhett cleared his throat.

“I don’t know how much he’s told you.”

Charles wasn’t one to respond to anything but a direct question. He sat still and silent, palms on his knees. Rhett took a deep breath and went on.

“I’ve decided to give up the show. I came back to tell him that. And hopefully to bring him home with me.”

Charles’ index finger tapped against his knee. “Did he ask you to do that?”

“I...which part?”

Charles smiled and shrugged, and Rhett suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

“He’s told me that he feels like I’ve put the show and the company above him. I never believed I had done that, but I’ve realized now that I have to choose between them if I’m going to have some hope of saving us.”

The man chewed on the inside of his cheek, finger still tapping. On instinct, Rhett wanted to meet the challenge, and he stared back until a wave of regret washed over him. This wasn’t a competition to be won. He sighed.

“I know I didn’t treat him the way he deserved. I could see that he was unhappy, that _we_ were unhappy, but I chose to ignore it because I didn’t want to mess up what we had. Which in hindsight I realize is stupid. If what we had wasn’t working, then there was no sense in trying to preserve it. It wasn’t going to get better without facing it head on. But I didn’t want to risk losing him. And that’s exactly what happened.”

Rhett could feel the muscles in his back threatening to twinge with the stress he was holding, and Charles’ continued silence didn’t help. Finally the older man pushed himself up from his recliner and pointed his thumb toward the kitchen.

“I’m gonna get a beer. You want one?”

Rhett’s shoulders slumped. He was giving up hope on ever getting any information as to Link’s whereabouts. But a beer did sound like just the thing to soothe the tension in his muscles, and he sighed.

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

Charles strode from the room, and Rhett sat alone for a moment. Then he gathered himself, pressed to a stand, and followed. When he reached the kitchen, Charles was just shutting the refrigerator, a can of Miller Lite in each hand.

“Where is Link, Charles?”

His father-in-law squinted as he studied him. “You really gonna give up the show?”

“I already did.”

Charles nodded, then extended one of the cans to Rhett. Rhett waited to crack it open until Charles had done so, tipping it back and taking a full swig before lifting it in salute to his son-in-law. Rhett did the same.

“So what’s next?” Charles asked as he moved past Rhett back to the living room.

“I’m gonna get my husband back.”

“What if he don’t want you?”

Rhett swallowed hard. “I can’t think about that right now. I gotta find him first.”

Charles smirked over the top of his can. “Well, that’s gonna be hard to do here.”

Rhett’s eyes widened. “Wait…’here’ as in your house? Is he stayin’ at Sue’s? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“He went home, Rhett.”

Rhett stared agape. “Home? As in…”

“California. He’s got a good head start on you though, son, but it’s gettin’ late. Get a good night’s sleep. You’re welcome to the guest room if it suits ya.”

Rhett’s can clanked onto the coffee table, beer splashing out onto the rim. “No, thank you. I gotta go. Thank you.” He extended his hand to Charles, but the man waved it away.

“Go get ‘im, son.”

***

It was a miracle Rhett hadn’t gotten a speeding ticket on his way back to the airport. It occurred to him that there was a chance there were no more flights tonight and then he would be stuck paying for a hotel or driving all the way back to Buies Creek again. He wasn’t going to waste time pulling over, and he wasn’t going to search flight schedules on his phone while driving, so he’d have to hope for the best.

There was a line at the rental car return, and he danced in his place, feet shuffling in his impatience. When finally he’d returned his car, he raced into the terminal, his rolling bag bumping along behind him. Another line waited for him at the ticket counters, this one even longer, and it took everything in him not to huff and glare at the people whom he knew were not at fault. Finally he reached the front of the line and asked for the next flight to LAX.

It seemed an eternity that the clerk spent tapping her keyboard, glancing at the screen, moving her mouse, clicking, returning to the keyboard to type something new. He wanted to shout at her, but he knew she wasn’t doing anything wrong. Frantically he watched her eyes and tried to lean over the counter to glance at her computer screen. Finally she spoke.

“The last flight out is about to leave. You wanna try to catch it?”

“Yes!” Rhett blurted.

“I can check your bags right here if you—“

“No,” he interrupted, “thank you, I’m carrying it all on.”

She nodded as she typed something more into her computer and then grabbed a strip of paper that fed out of a small printer beside her. She handed the paper to Rhett with a wink.

“Here’s your boarding pass. Good luck.”

Rhett smiled and nodded his thanks, then he was off.

***

It was dark both inside and out when Link stepped through the front door, but it was too early for Rhett to be in bed. He shut the door behind him with a gentle click and set his keys and wallet on the ledge by the door as he always did, the action an easy muscle memory.

“Rhett?” he called into the darkness. When no one answered, Link slipped off his shoes and lined them up in their place on the mat. His footsteps were muted as he entered the house. He clicked a lamp on in the living room, half expecting to find his husband huddled alone on the couch in the dark, but when the room was as empty as it had sounded, he made his way to the kitchen.

The room was clean and well-kept. Rhett had done fine without Link’s fixation on cleanliness. There was little food in the refrigerator, a few clean dishes in the dishwasher, not a crumb on the counter. Link trailed his index finger along the countertop. The thought crossed his mind to empty the dishwasher before he left the room, despite the nagging in his mind that he still had the rest of the house to check. Rhett could very well have gone to bed early. But Link’s eagerness to find him was matched by his reluctance; once they were reunited, he would have to face the choices he had made.

It wasn’t just that he had made out with Kelsey and tried to get her to sleep with him. It was that he’d abandoned Rhett. He’d sent him home alone, left him to deal with the fallout of his absence and its effect on their careers. Had they lost subscribers already in the short time Rhett had been operating without him? Link hadn’t dared to check, but he was sure they had. He knew how attached their viewers were to the familiar, and Rhett without Link was anything but familiar.

He stalled a moment longer by pulling a single glass from the dishwasher and filling it with water from the dispenser in the refrigerator door. He leaned against the island and sipped his drink slowly, and he closed his eyes, rehearsing his speech in his head.

 _I’m sorry I left you,_ he thought. _No, I take that back. I’m not sorry. I needed the time. I needed to figure some things out. But I did that; I figured it out._

With a sigh, Link downed the rest of his glass and set it on the counter. He rolled his shoulders back, steeling himself, and made his way to the stairs.

When he reached the bedroom, he left the light off so as not to wake Rhett. Link approached the bed slowly, his eyes adjusting to the dim light, but when he reached the edge, he could see that it was empty. He switched on the lamp on his nightstand and looked at the smooth surface of their comforter. His throat constricted, and he turned away.

He moved to the master bath and flipped on the light. Rhett’s toothbrush was missing from the holder, and upon opening the over-sink cabinet, he could see his other toiletries were missing. Beard oil, face wash, pomade. Link slammed the cabinet and stormed back out of the bathroom to their closet. Rhett’s carry-on suitcase was gone too.

Link took a deep breath to calm himself, then sat on the bed and pulled his phone from his pocket. He opened a text to Rhett but sat staring at the screen. Then he set his thumbs to typing.

_Where are you?_

His finger hovered over the send button, but instead he deleted the question. He tried again.

_I’m home._

With a huff of frustration, he deleted his words again and tossed his phone onto the nightstand. Then he pulled his legs up onto the mattress and rolled over onto Rhett’s side of the bed, pressing his face into Rhett’s pillow and breathing in deeply.

Rhett’s smell was somewhat different now than it had been when they were children. Instead of the country air, humidity, and youth on his skin, the inherent, familiar scent he’d always had was mixed with reminders of the person he was now. Beard oil, desert and sea, and the scent of manhood. He was the same, but different. Link wasn’t the only one who had changed.

Link felt his tears on the pillow before he knew they’d pushed free.

“Come back,” he whispered into the soft fabric. “I’m home. Come back.”

What if he were too late? What if Rhett hadn’t been able to stomach sleeping in a house that reminded him of Link? What if he’d pushed him too far?

He could feel the panic beginning to press against his ribcage, and he breathed deeply to try to keep it down. When it fought to take hold again, Link reached behind him, grasping at his nightstand until he got his fingers around his phone. He found the song that had been running through his head for days, [this version slower and more befitting his mood than the original](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yJ6wJqaE6o4), and set it to repeat. The piano played slowly, easing him into the music before the vocals began.

 _‘When I wake up, well I know I'm gonna be_  
_I'm gonna be the man who wakes up next to you._  
_And when I go out, yeah I know I'm gonna be_  
_I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you._  
_And when I come home, yeah I know I'm gonna be_  
_I'm gonna be the man who's coming home to you._  
_And when I'm dreamin', well I know I'm gonna dream_ _  
_ _I'm gonna dream about the time when I'm with you.’_

Link dozed, and the song mingled with Rhett’s scent in his dreams. They were on the river, but Link was old and Rhett was still a boy. Link began to drown, and Rhett didn’t know how to save him, nor was he strong enough to pull him to safety.

They were at the party where they had first kissed, but this time they were on the couch in plain sight of the room. There was no Kelsey and no Megan, just Rhett and Link and a room full of people who meant nothing more to them than the background noise they provided. Rhett’s hand was under Link’s shirt. Link’s shirt was speckled with blood and tears.

They sat at the old card table, filming GMM in the garage, but their whole modern-day crew was crammed into the room behind the camera. Link couldn’t stop worrying about how crowded they must feel, couldn’t stop and focus on the show. Rhett told a story about their weekend. Link already knew all his stories. He was always there. Rhett had nothing to keep to himself during the commute. There was no mystery.

Link was walking. He’d been walking for days, weeks. He could feel it in his muscles, in his bones and in the soles of his feet. A sign told him he’d walked five hundred miles, and he kept going. He’d keep going till he fell down at Rhett’s door, even if he had to walk a thousand miles.

Something jolted him awake. It took Link a moment to figure out what was real and what was in his head, and whether any of it accounted for the reason he was sleeping on Rhett’s side of the bed with the lamp on. The song still played on its loop, and Link picked up the phone and paused the music to listen to the silence in the house.

But it wasn’t silent. He dropped his phone on the bed and ran out the door, down the hall toward the stairs where he heard the heavy sounds of Rhett’s rushed footsteps. No one had to say a word before they were in each other’s arms.


	12. The Rest of Our Lives

It had only been a few weeks, but it felt like a lifetime. Somewhere in the back of Rhett’s mind, he told himself to be cautious, hold back, don’t cling to him. But Link’s palms pressing flat into Rhett’s back and the raggedness of his breath gave Rhett courage, and he gripped, one hand threading into Link’s hair and the other tangling in the fabric of his t-shirt.

“You’re home,” Rhett whispered into Link’s forehead. His husband was silent, and Rhett could feel the tension mingled with relief radiating through his body. Link hung on as if he were afraid to let go, but then there was a shift, the tension winning out over the relief as he released his grip and pulled back. He kept his eyes on the center of Rhett’s chest as he spoke.

“Let’s sit. Let’s talk.”

Rhett nodded, and Link led the way back to the bedroom. When he reached the bed, he crawled across it to the far end and folded himself up, legs criss-crossed beneath him and fingers tangling in his lap. Rhett sat opposite him across the bed and watched Link carefully, observing his body language for clues. Link fidgeted with his wedding ring, twirling it, slipping it off and on again.

“I kissed Kelsey.”

Rhett blinked. The statement was as confusing as it was abrupt. “Kelsey? Like...the night we...like, at the party? When we were kids?”

“No, like, a few days ago.”

Rhett was sure he was dreaming. “Kelsey? Megan’s friend? What are we talking about here?”

“I kissed her. I made out with her. I ran into her at the gas station and we hung out and it just happened.”

Rhett was speechless. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t considered the possibility of Link cheating on him, especially given their last phone conversation, but something about hearing it in reality still stunned him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Link sighed and cut him off.

“I shouldn’t say it just happened. That’s a cop-out. Nothing just happens. I made a choice. I chose to kiss her. I wanted to kiss her.”

Rhett swallowed. “Did you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Is it something you want to do again?”

Link shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t know, Rhett.”

They sat in the silence, Rhett looking at Link, Link looking at his hands. Rhett could tell by the way Link’s face shifted, mouth twitching and eyelids closing for long moments, that he had more to say, but Rhett waited. Finally Link found his words.

“I wanted to sleep with her.”

Rhett’s eyes went wide. “You wanted to sleep with her,” he repeated. Link just nodded, and Rhett closed his eyes to center himself before responding. “Okay. But like, it’s not wrong to want something. What matters is you didn’t do it.”

“I didn’t do it.”

“Okay,” Rhett exhaled. “What made you change your mind?” He wanted to believe it was because Link wanted to stay faithful. He wanted to believe it was because he still loved Rhett. But Link finally met his eyes, and the look Rhett saw wasn’t reassuring.

“I didn’t change my mind. She said no. I would’ve done it.”

Rhett felt the tightness in his neck and shoulders traveling down to the small of his back, and he stood, straightening his spine and pacing away, hand threaded into his hair.

“I’m sorry, Rhett.”

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry if you’re not.”

Link’s mouth snapped shut, and Rhett folded his arms across his chest and faced him again.

“So I guess that means you’re not actually sorry?”

Link swallowed. “I don’t know. I’m a lot of things.”

“I’m still hearing a lot of ‘I don’t know’s. Weren’t you supposed to figure things out before you came home? Wasn’t that the whole point? Do you need to go back and fuck her so you can finish your soul search?”

Link’s eyes darkened. “Come on, Rhett.”

“No. You don’t get to scold me right now.”

Link sighed. “I was chasing something. I realize now that I did it in the wrong way, but I’m not sorry for trying to figure out what I need, even if part of that process was hurtful to you. I’m sorry for hurting you, Rhett; I truly am. But I’m not sorry for needing to explore that part of me. I needed something that had nothing to do with you.”

Rhett felt the impact in the middle of his chest, and he couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped his lungs. Link’s words rang in his ears like a chime clock: _I needed something that had nothing to do with you._ That was it, then. He closed his eyes when he felt the prick of tears, and Link’s voice softened.

“Rhett…”

Rhett held up a palm to quiet him, and Link obeyed. Rhett breathed deeply, trying to calm his emotions before he spoke. He had loved Link for as long as he could remember. Rhett’s brain warred between his resolve to fight for him and his commitment to let Link choose his own path. Since Link had sent him home, Rhett had felt like he was barely hanging on without him. But maybe that was what love was asking of him. He knew what he needed to do. He inhaled a shaky breath.

“Maybe you should leave.”

“I just got back. You want to kick me out?”

“I’m not kicking you out!” Rhett shouted, all hope of composure gone, as the tears escaped down his cheeks. “I’m telling you that if you don’t want me, you can leave! I’m letting you go, okay?” His voice cracked in a sob, and he covered his face as it broke loose. His knees began to give out beneath him, and Rhett sank to the floor.

Link didn’t want him. And Rhett had lost everything. He felt the despair creep in and cover him like a heavy shroud, pressing him down into the earth. Seconds later, he felt Link’s hands on his shoulders. Rhett wept into his palms, but he could feel Link’s breath brushing across his knuckles.

“Rhett,” Link murmured, “I don’t mean that I don’t want anything to do with you. You’re the best thing in my life. All I meant is that I need to have some things in my life that aren’t connected to you. I need to be able to see where you end and I begin.”

Rhett’s tears quieted, but he kept his hands over his face until Link began to pull lightly at one of his wrists.

“Come on, man. Come back to the bed. If you’re not kickin’ me out, then I wanna talk to you.”

Rhett dragged his palms down his face and sniffled loudly. Link stepped to the nightstand and grabbed him a tissue, then he led Rhett reluctantly back to the bed. Rhett blew his nose then tossed the crumpled tissue off to the side, but his eyes stayed on it, anywhere but at Link’s face. Link sat just close enough to place his hand on Rhett’s knee.

“I need some things that are just for me, man. I don’t need _everything_ to be apart from you; just some things. Does that make sense?”

“I never prevented you from having your own interests. You coulda taken on a hobby anytime you wanted.”

“I know,” Link said. “You’re right. But we kept so busy, and I didn’t think it was important enough. But now I realize that it is.

“When I went camping on the island back home, I did it to prove to myself that I could take care of myself. And believe it or not, I did fine. Great, actually. I didn’t hurt myself once. I slept alone in the woods without a tent.”

“Did you get a little scared?”

“Yeah, but then I got over it.”

The men chuckled at the joke, and Link took the lightened mood as permission to stroke his thumb against Rhett’s knee.

“You did fine without me too. I’m sorry to admit it, but I was surprised at how good the house looked when I got back. Not even a dang crumb on the counter.”

Rhett huffed a laugh through his nose. “It’s possible I ate a lot of fast food.”

Link rolled his eyes and smiled. “But you kept things running without me. I mean, you kept the whole freaking company afloat.”

Rhett felt the dread creeping back over him again. He’d done what he’d done for Link’s sake, for their marriage’s sake, but now that it came to it, he wasn’t sure how his husband was going to feel about the gesture.

“Link, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Link’s thumb stilled on his knee, but he kept his hand in place and met Rhett’s eyes.

“I sold the company.”

Link pulled his hand into his lap and his face scrunched up in confusion. “You what?”

“You were right. It became too important to me. Our brand became bigger than our marriage, and I almost lost you over it. I wanted to prove to you that you’re more important to me than the empire we built. I don’t need an empire, Link. I just want you.”

“But...you sold it? How—”

“—the point is that we’re free now. If you want to get a job that gets you away from me for the day, I’m fine with that. Who knows, maybe we can pursue those back-up jobs we always talked about! You can be a hair stylist and I’ll be an architect.”

“You’re too old to go back to college and get a degree. At least as a stylist I could go to tech school.”

Rhett laughed. “Or we can just retire early. We could live out our days on the beach, or build a little cabin in the Colorado mountains. Or we could buy a yacht! Take it to Tahiti and rent out day-trips to tourists!”

“If we live on a yacht, we still have to be together all the time,” Link pointed out with a grin.

“I swear, I’ll never love that boat more than I love you. And besides, there’ll be enough work to do to keep the damn thing running that we’ll barely have to interact beyond just shouting out commands.”

“We’re both shouting out commands? Who’s the captain?”

“Well, obviously I am,” Rhett stated unironically. “You can be my sexy first mate.”

Link rolled his eyes before shifting his position to allow him to lie down with his head in Rhett’s lap. Rhett stroked the hair back from Link’s forehead.

“I’m not tired of you,” Link murmured. “I do actually like being around you. You’ve always been there. It’s weird not having you around. It’s too quiet, and too boring.’

Rhett chuckled lightly and sighed. “So what did you figure that you need?”

“I just missed being my own person.” Link’s forehead crinkled. “Actually, I don’t think ‘missed’ is the right word for it. I don’t know if I ever was my own person. I was my mom’s person, and then I was your person.”

“I’d like to get to know Link’s person,” Rhett said. “What do you think he’s like?”

Link closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Rhett’s fingers in his hair as he considered the question. “He likes the outdoors. He doesn’t spend enough time there.” He paused as he thought about it. “I think maybe I want to take up mountain biking again. Find a local group. And you can’t come.”

“Too hard on my back anyway.”

Link nodded against Rhett’s legs. He quieted again, thinking, and Rhett bit the inside of his cheek, carefully considering his words before speaking.

“Do you think you want to try dating women? Or...anyone else for that matter?”

Link sat up and met Rhett’s eye. They weighed each other out, reading each other’s expressions carefully.

“I don’t know,” Link admitted. “Maybe.”

Rhett nodded. “Okay. Alright. We can talk about that. Maybe in therapy.”

Link smiled. “Yeah. And you could apologize to your therapist for storming out on her the last time.”

“I did _not_ storm out!”

Link rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, McLaughlin.”

Rhett reached out and cupped Link’s cheek. “I missed you, man. But I want you to have what you need. I love you more than I want you, and if what you need doesn’t mesh with my wants, then I’m willing to lay those down for you.”

“But I’m not the only one who matters here, Rhett. You can’t just sacrifice yourself on my altar. What do _you_ need?”

Rhett lifted his second hand to the other cheek. “I need to wake up every morning and see your face. If you’ll have me.”

Link smiled. “I’ll have you. What else?”

“I need you to be happy.”

 _“You_ make me happy, baby.”

Rhett drew him in, and he sighed when their lips met. They’d chased each other back and forth across the continent, but this, finally, was like truly coming home. Link showed an eagerness Rhett hadn’t seen in so long, his fingers combing into Rhett’s hair and pulling him closer, tongue reaching to consume him, to swallow him whole. It was Link who reached for the hem of Rhett’s shirt, slipping it up and over his head before diving in again. It was Link who whimpered with need while his fingers tangled in the button of Rhett’s jeans, who shoved him back onto the bed to pull both layers of fabric down Rhett’s long, warm legs.

Rhett lifted his head to watch as Link stripped off his own clothes, his eyes never leaving Rhett’s face. Link pulled lube from the nightstand drawer and dropped it beside them on the bed before climbing over Rhett’s body, then he leaned down to press kisses into his chest.

“I love you,” Link whispered between kisses. “I love you.”

Rhett combed his fingers into Link’s hair and said nothing. Instead he closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of his husband’s mouth exploring his body, a body sore and worn from travel and stress, his muscles relaxing under Link’s ministrations. He felt the wet heat of Link’s mouth wrapping around him, fingers suddenly slippery now pressing inside. Rhett groaned, and he spoke his appreciation with the touch of his hand through Link’s hair, nails scraping his scalp. Link hummed into his flesh, low and long. He released him to the coolness of the air but immediately made up for it by blanketing Rhett’s body with his own.

Rhett bit back a cry when Link entered him. He felt his fear break free, his desperation and loneliness, as they found each other again. He felt the promise in the touch of Link’s hands on his skin, in the fit of their bodies as perfect as it had ever been. He grasped at Link’s back, clinging to him just as the moisture from Link’s breath clung to Rhett’s throat, the aching sounds of their union filling the room.

Rhett dug his heels into the warm flesh of Link’s backside and drove him deeper. As great as had been the need to reconnect with Link’s soul, so was the need to be loved by his body. They were made to be together. He clawed into Link’s back and bit into the muscle of his shoulder. Link heard the words Rhett didn’t say, and he pressed up on his palms, angling his body to thrust faster and deeper, drawing a moan from Rhett’s throat. Link laid a hand on Rhett’s chest and leaned into it, spurred on by the feeling of Rhett’s heartbeat pounding against his ribcage.

When they began to near the crest, Link moved his hand to Rhett’s cheek, thumb brushing the skin above his beard. Rhett opened his eyes and met the blue of his husband’s, neither looking away as they were carried up and over, cries of ecstatic pleasure tangling in harmony. They held their connection as they rode the wave to its end, then when it was over, Link lowered himself to Rhett’s chest, tucking his head beneath his chin as they caught their breath.

“I missed your body,” Rhett said with a chuckle. Link laughed.

“I missed your big, gangly body too.”

Rhett squeezed him hard, forcing the air from Link’s lungs as he laughed again.

“So,” Rhett asked, “what are we gonna do with the rest of our lives?”

Link barked out another laugh, and Rhett’s brow furrowed.

“What?”

“You didn’t sell the company, you doofus.”

“Sure I did. I ain’t pullin’ your leg, man. I sold it.”

“You did not. I’m part-owner, and I didn’t sign nothin’.”

“Well, maybe I didn’t _legally_ sell it, but it’s as good as sold. Filmed a goodbye video for the beasts and everything.”

Link sat up and looked down at him. “You didn’t air it, did you?”

“Not yet.”

“I don’t want it sold, man. I like our job.”

“You do?”

“Are you messin’ with me?” Link asked. “Of course I do! I get paid to goof around and laugh with my husband all day! Why on earth would I want to give that up?”

Rhett propped himself up on his elbows. “Link, the show almost ruined our marriage. You sure you wanna risk it?”

Link slid into the space beside Rhett and propped his head up on his hand, facing him. “The show didn’t do that, Rhett. We did it. But we’re gonna fix it. We’re gonna make time to be more than the brand. You’re gonna be Rhett and I’m gonna be Link. We don’t gotta be Rhett & Link every second of every day.”

Rhett nodded. “Okay. Granted.”

“When I was camping, I was doing just fine. I had everything handled. But I was bored and lonely. I kept wanting to turn and share some stupid memory or remind you of an inside joke, and then I’d remember you weren’t there. I didn’t need you there, but I wanted you. My life is better with you in it. I could survive without you, man, but I‘d rather not have to. I like us. I like who we are and what we’ve built and everything we don’t even see comin’ yet. I want to do it _with_ you.”

Rhett grabbed Link’s face and pressed a hard kiss to his mouth, and when his tongue slipped inside, Link chuckled and pulled back so he could speak.

“Don’t tell me you’re ready for round two already.”

“If I can convince this old man body to comply, I will certainly be okay with it. But the question is, what do _you_ wanna do?”

“I wanna get our company back.”

Rhett leaned his forehead against Link’s. “Then, first thing in the morning, that’s what we’re gonna do.”


	13. Part of Me

Link chased up a cloud of mustard-colored dirt when he skidded to a stop at the foot of the hill. He’d gotten distracted for only a moment by something that had caught his vision off to the side of the path, but thankfully no one had been riding so closely behind them that they created a painful pileup when he slammed on his brakes. He steered his bike off to the trail’s edge to make way for the others still coasting in from the rear of the pack, then climbed off and took a swig from his now-lukewarm water bottle.

“God,” sighed the voice of a lanky strawberry blonde who sidled up next to him, water bottle clutched firmly in hand. “That last uphill was brutal. I’m getting soft.”

“Well, you’re here, Sky,” Link pointed out, “so you’re doin’ something right!”

Sky elbowed him with a grin and slid their bottle back into its place on their bike. “You were really cruising out there. I’m pretty sure I was faster than you when you joined the group, but now…”

Link took another drink and chuckled. “Maybe you just gotta apply yourself more!” He earned himself a playful swat on the arm, and he laughed again. “Nah, you looked great out there. Trying to keep up with you keeps me motivated.”

Sky grinned and shot a wink in Link’s direction, then wiped a forearm across their sweaty brow.

“Got any plans for the weekend?”

Link shrugged. “Rhett’s got some class lined up for the girls. It seems a little excessive, but you know how he is. His layers.”

His friend laughed. “Well, hopefully this layer will stick. Seems like the kind of thing you’ve got to commit to.”

“All his layers stick in a way. They just, y’know, layer. One after another. It’s just the one on the outside that’s easiest to see, but they’re all still there.”

“He’s lucky to have someone who knows him so well.”

Link smiled. “Well, that is definitely a quality that goes both ways.” He took a final gulp of his water before sliding it into its holder and getting both hands on the bike’s handles. “Hey, I’m gonna run. We’ll talk soon, yeah?”

“You got it. See ya.”

Link hopped back onto his bike and steered it carefully between the people coming and going from the park, waving at familiar faces as he made his way back to the parking lot. Once there, he lifted the bike onto the rack affixed to the rear of his car, strapping it securely. Then he climbed into the driver’s seat and headed for home.

***

“Sweetheart, I need you to focus. Do you want to be the only one in your class who has no idea what they’re doing?” Rhett rifled in the pouch around his waist with a sigh of exasperation. “Your sister is so on top of this, Jade. Is it Daddy’s fault for babying you? Is that it?”

The tiny, distracted dachshund wagged her tail at the mention of Link, and Rhett rolled his eyes and looked at the shaggy white dog beside her, shaking his head.

“I didn’t even say his name and she knows who I’m talking about. You wanna show her how it’s done, Barb?” He held out one of the treats he’d extricated from his pouch, and Barbara’s ears perked. “You wanna show Jade how to sit and stay? Sit, Barbara.”

She plopped down, full on her belly, and Rhett rolled his eyes again. “Close. Here you go, ladies. You’re lucky you’re so cute.” He let each dog lick a treat from his palm before scratching them behind the ears.

When the dogs had run off to wrestle on the living room rug, Rhett straightened and watched them, his mind wandering. The light from the picture window facing the front yard showed the day was getting late, and he felt his eyes drifting to the street. It was a quiet cul-de-sac, and they rarely saw a car that didn’t belong to one of their immediate neighbors. The sun left orange streaks across the rug, dappling the tussling dogs. Their playful growls and yips were not sufficient noise.

Rhett pulled his phone from his pocket and clicked on some Merle before wandering to their home office. He’d committed himself to not spending too much time there, and the adoption of Barbara and Jade had been helpful in that regard. When they’d first ended Good Mythical Morning, Rhett had wandered the house aimlessly, trying to re-calibrate his sense of personal usefulness. It hadn’t been the end of Mythical, but even the shift to what was solely a production company rather than primarily a seat for a YouTube daily show had left him scrambling for a while until he figured out how this new life was supposed to feel.

They still had plenty to do as owners of a thriving business. They worked together, shared an office space both at home and at work, but spending little time in front of the camera gave them more freedom to divvy up their projects and create a greater sense of space. They’d found their own hobbies and interests, and this made the time they did spend together, whether working or playing, all the sweeter. The men had worked too hard for too many years, and while they loved the work they did, it was good for them to slow the pace a little, to oversee and delegate and trust their employees to hold things together for them sometimes.

The rumbling in Rhett’s stomach drove him away from the siren song of work, and he moved to the kitchen. He puttered around, staring blankly into cabinets and the refrigerator for dinner inspiration.

He was unmotivated to do any complex cooking when he didn’t know what time Link would be home. He knew Link’s rides only lasted a few hours, but some days he came straight home while on others he went out afterward, had a drink or played video games with friends. Rhett was okay with it, truly—he’d seen what a difference it made to Link’s overall happiness to have that additional level of separateness and independence. So on these days, Rhett kept his expectations low. The last thing Link needed was a nagging husband.

Rhett pulled a package of Italian sausages from the fridge and set them on the counter. Partnered with a bag of chips and a salad, there wasn’t much prep time needed. He began to pre-slice some veggies for the salad, humming to the soothing melody of Merle’s husky voice.

At the sound of the garage door opening outside, Rhett turned and faced the door that led from the garage to the kitchen. The dogs came yapping into the room at the sound and were swirling around Link’s feet the moment he strode inside.

The man was aglow. He grinned wide as he let the door swing shut behind him and reached down to scratch behind the ears of the enthusiastic pups at his feet. When they had been appeased to his satisfaction, Link straightened and smiled at Rhett.

“Gosh, you’re sweaty,” Rhett chuckled as Link stretched up on his toes to offer a peck on the lips. “I can feel the heat coming off you.”

Link laughed into the kiss before wrapping his arms around Rhett’s waist and looking up into his face. “Do I stink?”

Rhett sniffed and grimaced before smiling at his joke. “No. I like your smell. You have fun?”

Link released him and spun away, pulling open the refrigerator door. “Mm-hmm.” He grabbed a beer and sank into a seat at the kitchen table. After a long swig, he set it down on the table and picked at the paper label glued to the bottle.

Rhett cleared his throat. “What? Just ‘Mm-hmm’? That’s all I get?”

Link shrugged. “Ain’t much to tell. But it was fun.”

“Was Sky there?”

Link rolled his eyes and grinned. “Yes. But I still like you better.”

Rhett flicked on the rangetop grill and began to open the package of sausages. Link watched him with curiosity, tapping his finger against the side of his beer.

“You look good, Rhett.”

Rhett chuckled beneath his breath but kept his eyes on his work. “Thanks.”

“Whatcha been up to since I left?”

Rhett shrugged. “Watched a little TV. Finally sanded that bookshelf in the garage. Tried to get the girls ready to show off their mad skills tomorrow. Thought about working. But didn’t.”

“Good man. It’s Saturday.”

“I missed you.”

Link left the bottle and rose to his feet. He crossed the space between them and slid his palm onto Rhett’s lower back, pressing a kiss into the side of his arm.

“I missed you too.”

“You don’t have to say that. You were busy. It’s okay if you weren’t thinking about me.”

“Rhett.” Link’s voice was gentle yet firm, and Rhett turned to meet his eyes. “I’m always thinkin’ about you, even if it’s just the way you float around in the back of my brain. You’re part of me, man. Don’t you know that by now?”

Rhett breathed a laugh out his nose and reached behind Link to pinch his butt. “Did you flirt?”

“A little,” Link chuckled.

“I did miss you though.”

“You had the girls to keep you company.”

“They don’t kiss as nice as you.”

Link laughed out loud and gripped Rhett’s bearded chin, leaning in close. “That so?”

Rhett pressed forward to capture his mouth. As Link melted into him, lips parting in a contented sigh, Rhett felt in his bones the truth of the old adage:

Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

***

Link blinked at the sun hitting his face through the gap in the bedroom curtains. He pressed his eyes shut against the light, letting the warmth glow red through his eyelids, as he tuned in to his other senses.

Rhett’s breath washed hot over the shell of his ear, and his soft beard tickled Link’s bare shoulder and the crook of his neck. A limp arm draped over his rib cage, but Link knew from the closeness and the position of Rhett’s head that he wasn’t asleep. The sun was high, too high for them to still be in bed, even on a Sunday.

“What time is it?” Link whispered.

The arm across his middle tightened, drawing him back against the warm skin of Rhett’s stomach. “Nine o’clock.”

_“Nine??”_

Rhett chuckled in his ear. “Sleepy head.”

“Don’t we have to go? What time is the dog class?”

“We got time,” Rhett murmured into Link’s hair. “Let me snuggle you.”

Link squirmed, the instinct triggered by both the tickle of Rhett’s beard and the anxiousness to get out of bed and move on with their day. He giggled as he pulled free of Rhett’s arms, ignoring the whine from behind him.

“You think I got time to shower?” he murmured as he stood to his feet.

“We’re not late.”

“What time is it?”

“You know what time it is!”

Both men froze, and Link turned around. He searched Rhett’s face for emotion, then he sank back to sit on the bed and pivoted toward his husband, pulling his legs onto the comforter and folding them beneath him. He laid his hand on Rhett’s arm.

Rhett looked him over. “You okay?”

Link smiled stiffly and nodded. “You?”

“Talk to me, bo.”

Link sighed and squeezed the arm beneath his palm. “It’s good this way.”

“It’s okay to be sad, though.”

Link sighed. “I know.”

“Do you regret it?”

Link lay back down on his side, facing Rhett. “No. I like having you to myself more,” he said with a grin. “Which I guess is kind of ironic, since a big part of this whole thing was me needing more space. But I like it this way. I loved the show, but we can do so much more now. I think this was always our trajectory. I just didn’t know how it would feel when we got here.”

Rhett scooted closer and pressed his lips to Link’s forehead, feeling his warmth. “I still love watching you work,” he murmured against his skin. “All serious while you type and brainstorm and order people around.”

Link chuckled. “You don’t miss seeing me covered in food?”

“I can do that anytime. Just watch you spill on yourself over dinner.” Rhett pulled back to see the eyeroll he knew was coming. “Or…” he murmured, “we could just bring the food games home instead. I’m sure I could find some interesting places to put whipped cream. We could turn you into a sundae!”

“Or make sensual nachos.”

Rhett laughed. “Nachos are already so sensual. Eating them right off your body is just...so much.”

“Too much?”

“Never. I’d eat congealed blood off your body if I had to.”

“Would you like to?”

“No thank you.”

Link’s laugh crinkled the corners of his eyes, and Rhett kissed the spot, the happy reminder of how many years they’d had together.

“We could buy weird products on Amazon and try them out,” Rhett suggested. “Or do our own ‘Will It’ for dinner!”

Link laughed again. “You don’t have to recreate GMM for me, Rhett. I’m okay. You were the best thing about the show, and I still have you.”

Rhett kissed his mouth. “You’ll always have me.”

“What time do we have to leave?”

“Ten-thirty.”

“So we’ve got plenty of time.”

“That’s what I said before.”

Link pressed himself up and swung a leg over Rhett’s middle, planting himself on his pelvis. “You hungry?”

“You know me.”

“I think there might be whipped cream and chocolate syrup in the fridge.”

Rhett laughed and sat up, wrapping his arms around Link’s ribcage. “Dessert for breakfast? You spoil me.”

“I wouldn’t mind a little spoiling myself, if you’re up to the challenge.”

Rhett rolled his hips upward, pressing against the man in his lap. “Always. You lie down. I’ll get the toppings.”

Link kissed him deeply and ground back down against him in reply. “And a good mythical morning to you too, brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn. Thank you all for hanging with me through this exhausting undertaking! I know it was slow-moving, and I can't tell you how much it's meant to me to get your feedback, letting me know that you were here for it, that you were invested and anxiously awaiting the next installment. I don't know if I ever would have gotten through this without those of you who went out of your way to cheer me on. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!
> 
> And thanks again to my unfailing betas, [FamousWolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FamousWolf/pseuds/FamousWolf) and [loudspeakr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loudspeakr/pseuds/loudspeakr), for all the time and energy you've spent processing this monster with me, reading and re-reading my chapters and helping polish the things that weren't working, and for just being the greatest moral support a girl could ask for. I love you guys. No, seriously. I love you.

**Author's Note:**

>  
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> [Find me on Tumblr and say hello!](http://missingparentheses.tumblr.com)
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> Thank you for kudoing, commenting, and subscribing! (You know what time it is!)


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